Hard to Let Go
by Britican
Summary: Hermione comes across rather interesting finds while finishing her N.E.W.T. year believing Snape was left for dead. But now her mind says otherwise. This obession will span yrs and many are not happy with her- HG/SS pairing.
1. Back to School

She couldn't leave him there…Harry and Ron had both fled with his memories in the vial she had conjured. Torn between following and helping, Hermione looked down upon the expired man, still bleeding, the blood soaking her denim as her knees touched his body while she knelt. Her fingers were on his throat, trying to staunch the blood—the venom in Nagini's fangs must have qualities that prohibit the congealing of the crimson fluid as even on the wooden floorboards it was still fresh, still raw and coppery.

She looked down on the bat of the dungeons, looked at his face tight and drawn, pale as parchment, and her fingers did not feel the pulse of the living beneath her. But, she was Hermione, resident Hogwarts know-it-all and bookworm. She had read many books, on all academia and knew that wizards did not die like Muggles—but Snape was the Half Blood Prince—could he go either way? Like Hermione she did not know whether her life span would be cut short as a Muggle or pulled taunt like a witch to live to be as old as Dumbledore. Hermione had read in _Healers: A Reference Guide _that even if a heart stops, that doesn't mean death; a wizard falls into a sort of coma, a limbo that with each passing moment, their essence separates from their body and if depleted, they may fall into a squib/Muggle state and thus pass on to the great unknown.

But, how could she let this strong, stony epitome of fear and pride, snide and torment slip literally between her fingers? Hermione thought of turning away, raising and chasing to catch up to the Boy Wonder and sidekick, but looking at Snape, she couldn't. She was drawn to him; his mind seemed to beg for company in this distress—beg entrance into her mind—tell her something…

Tearing her sleeve into a strip of material, Hermione applied to his throat. Was she or wasn't she a witch?

"Accio Dittany!" She shouted without her wand, as it lay on Snape's chest. No thought went into foolish wand waving; intent and will, magic and soul went into the distress of her words as they wavered and echoed around her. Her voice was unfamiliar to her now as another voice was in her head—a voice that commanded her to search the body below her.

_Insipid girl! Make yourself useful and look in my pockets…_

Hermione started to tug open his sodden cloak with haste and flipped the inside over for any pockets. Casting a silent Lumos she held the light over the black and bloodied material. His undercoat held few pockets and many buttons. She wasn't keen on unbuttoning them all with a war waging around her and the balance of the wizarding world at stake, seeing her possibly dead professor starkers was not high on her list.

Patting him down she felt something next to his chest, not in a pocket, but underneath his coat. She opened a few buttons and withdrew a pouch that was attached to a silver necklace, worn over his bloodied pink stained shirt, it was similar to hers.

She opened it and held miniature vials but dropped them as a whizzing sound behind her made her fly to her feet, wand at the ready—but it was the Dittany that flew into her hand. The vials were returned to their regular size but unlabeled. They were green and thick beneath their glass. And something else was there that missed her first sight, a picture torn in half of a red haired woman. _Lily…_

_Why would he be carrying vials? He was a potions master so they must be important to be on his person. _

Hermione poured the Dittany in his bloody mouth, trying to make him swallow, but blood just gurgled out. Hermione was dry heaving. She opened the vials and sniffed them. Not blood replenishing potion at all. _Poison?_

_Think Hermione! Think! You're good at this! _

_Professor Snape was a double agent. Working around the megalomaniac and the Order, he was in constant danger. In danger of Death Eaters—but he was a master dualist. Something he was prepared for more subtly…poison? Antidote? Antidote…antidote…poison…snake…Nagini…anti—antivenin? Antivenin! _

_Yes! Hopefully…Well, he is dying so it can't hurt any if he takes it….but he can't swallow…think…think…_

_Inject it! _

Hermione transfigured the vial into a syringe and jabbed it into his thigh.

_Work! Work!_ She commanded but he just laid there, cold and pale. The blood was slowing but she thought it was due to him running out of it.

_Why do I care if he lived or died anyways? He was a prat to us all, he played us all for his own devious plans…but Dumbledore trusted him…_

"Dumbledore trusted you! Dumbledore trusted you! And by Merlin's sodding bleeding beard so did I! I trusted you, respected you! You were the only professor that I actually had to try to please and could never impress! What do I have to do? Tell me! Wake up! What do I need to do? I can solve this, I can! A clue, one sodding clue…" Hermione threw up her hands and walked away from his body. She was done. She had no clue what else to do and knew not what else to do.

At that moment she jumped. Voldemort's voice was reverberating throughout the room. She needed to be out there, helping the war. Helping the fight. Not here, helping her dead professor. She had hoped he might be alive, like in the effects of draught of the living dead—but no, he would not wake, and he had lost to much blood.

Perhaps, even if he was alive, death was better after all this war. And living the life he was living, this peace, no matter how he went, had to be better.

Life? Did such a man, a Death Eater, value life? Did he know the pleasure of it, because he certainly knew the pains…Hermione was young, but she be damned if she hadn't lived enough of the second war to know and value life. This man had so far been in two, front lines and all.

She looked at his face, that nose of a Roman sculpture and slender fingers that had fallen at his sides as he had let go of Harry and said those horrific words she knew would keep her up for many hours and years to come:

_Look…At…Me…_

With a shudder she crossed to the hole she had entered from. She had done her work and tried her best. He was a goner for sure, she was positive. So many had already fallen. Nothing could be done for them.

"I've tried professor. But, if we fail today, I'll be seeing you on the other side and perhaps then we can discuss N.E.W.T.S. level Defense Against the Dark Art and Potions, eh? There's so much that I wanted to know but as your student, you wouldn't even spare me the chance." She didn't look at him. She wanted to remember the towering black man that would leer over her cauldron and in not finding a fault pass wordlessly by to torment Neville. She would take that voice of his in her mind's recesses and remember the professor as he was with agate eyes as mirthless as a midnight soul.

She did not see that the onyx eyes slowly cracked open seeing nothing and a slippery crimson finger barely attempted a twitch.

The war was over. Of course, the Chosen One had won, and all over celebrations were held in his honor and all the war heroes glorified and all the excitement just made Hermione want to crawl into a hole and cry. And that is precisely what she did in her childhood home after retreating from the carnage hewn battlefield of Hogwarts once the counts were tallied of the living and dead. All the baddies were locked up and under Auror watch, mainly Death Eaters and sympathizers, except one. No one had thought of going back to the Shrieking Shack and hovering Severus Snape back into Hogwarts into the Main Hall were the tables were being used to line up the dead for identification later, but Hermione.

Hours had passed when her mind had remembered, and with the wards around Hogwarts down, she Apparated to the Shack, but the dreary body of the Potion's Master was gone. All that remained was the blood stains. No hand prints or feet besides Hermione's.

All she could think of as an explanation was that a Death Eater or someone with a personal vendetta must have taken his body for some hopefully decent burial or some horrific dissembling of the body in some manner she would rather not think of.

She told no one of this. If they couldn't find him so be it. She was through with this mess. She had her own body to worry about right now and no one else.

Her parents were back from the outback. And bless them for their ignorance; they let her carry on living mopping around her room undisturbed. She did not tell them of the war, and how close they all were to being nonexistent. She kept her windows closed to the owls that flew to her home, clawing and beaking at the windows. She had at first accepted the mail, letters of gratitude, letters of desired interviews and fan mail, letters of memorial services and Ministry services, and so on and so on. She had ignored responding.

Was Hermione falling into a depression? Perhaps, but who in their right mind wouldn't? It was destined to happen sometime, with all this stress. She was an overachiever. Sitting down and thinking about it all frustrated her. She no longer had some demented psycho to worry about—she had a future. But, the problem was she was fantastic at everything, and that left too many doors open, too many options to pursue and then regret not choosing. The problem was she didn't want to sail through life on some early made success as the wingman in the Golden Trio. She was her own woman now..

As the school grounds were being cleared and Hermione was helping to levitate the injured away she saw the thestrals emerge from the forest and swoop over the grounds, attracted by the blood and the body parts laying around. With Sirius Black's death she thought hadn't thought a second about being able to see them, but now, now they held her gaze and she just stared back, and realized then that even some adults would double her age had yet to see them.

Harry, Ron and Neville had joined the new Ministry under Shacklebolt's ushered in peace and reformation. Hermione found herself desiring not a new life in the world, but a second chance to finish a seventh year that she missed out on in a familiar setting. Her N.E.W.T. year was rather comical as it was tragic, looking around and seeing the decimated number of students. This year all the house tables sat together, and all four houses became one. The hardest hit house was Slytherin, with their parents, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, friends and other family members in Azkaban.

There was nothing more comforting to Hermione than the library. She was the oldest student that chose to return, and thus, McGonagall had given her own room alone. She was not permitted status of Head Girl, and was of age, so she had her own rules: none. After the library was closed in the evenings, she would sometimes go and wonder the hallways, finding her way on the Grand Staircase and just following her feet and the faint glow of her wand. Peeves would leave her alone as well and the occasional Hogwarts Ghost would greet her then pass by. Several times, she would end up outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and more than a few times more, in the dungeons outside the Potions classroom. It was here that she felt secluded, sheltered and safe. Here the pulse of the castle breathed in its magical rejuvenation into her veins and kept the silence of the world in a echo that dripped off a wall and passed through the stones to beneath the world to clap with the thunder in another cycle.

Hermione would pull her sweater sleeves over her palms and fist them into a ball, crossing her arms over her breasts and turn away. She was becoming paranoid, believing that she could sometimes hear the steady stride of confident footfalls and the brush of a cloak on stone in a billow of an abrupt turn. He just wouldn't leave her mind.

But then he wouldn't leave McGonagall's either. She was still Deputy Headmistress. The castle refused to accept her as Headmistress and prohibited her entry into the chambers. The Headmaster portraits would visit other pictures in her office and tell her that Headmaster Snape's portrait had yet to make an appearance, and until it did so, or the castle acknowledged his death, he was still the Headmaster, until he resigned. And he never technically did that, since that dreadful night he was protecting the students, and Harry Potter, thus, he was protecting the school. It had been found that he was indeed working more favorably for the Order and not the Death Eaters, so his name was clear legally, but everyone thought otherwise, but Hermione and the Golden Trio. Dumbledore had trusted him. It unnerved Hermione to no end that the castle behaved in such a manner, and Snape's body had never been recovered. It was beyond eerie.

Nigellus, who kept in touch now and then past midnight in picture frames, leering around like his old self during those few months past now, had told her that McGonagall had been on the very urge of tearing Dumbledore's frame down and onto the fire if he didn't tell her if Snape was dead or not, was very interested in this gossip. He also mentioned that if he was Hermione he would approach the Deputy Headmistress, ask to take the N.E.W.T.S. now, and then set off traveling the world, wrecking havoc as it were, haunting old haunts, like a spider drawn to spinning webs, but then, that was him…

_What the hell did that all mean? _Buggering Headmaster left before she could ask. Hermione huffed, turned on her foot and went down to the Potions classroom. Slughorn was still instructor of the younger years, and only them. He had not seen the point in instructing just one student in her N.E.W.T.S. so had recently let her, as she was mature and intelligent enough to not blow herself or the castle up, free reigns of the less expensive ingredients and cauldrons to create a final project to hand in when completed to get top marks and pass Potions. Gods, how she hated Slughorn and his neglect for the subtle art of Potions and the intense care one needed to excel and push students to the precision necessary to not be careless. _At least with Professor Snape—_

_No more thinking of Professor Snape. _

Hermione had no idea what to brew for this project. All her other instructors had pretty much as well gave her independent study and offered to test her when she was ready enough before the end of the year to leave school. But that fear of leaving her safe surroundings gripped her again, this was where she had spent so many of her years…

Going to the classroom ingredient stores Hermione almost sneered at the absolute mess of the storeroom, it was so unorganized. Professor Snape would have heads rolling…she wondered then if McGonagall had been able to access the Headmaster's office, if Slughorn had been able to access Snape's private store room. She had been in there, before…but he was a DOA instructor so surely Slughorn had been given access to it. But then, both were Potion's Master, so maybe each had their own.

Hermione ran out of the dungeons, her feet pounding on the stones and her breath hitching in her throat, wondering at the thought that she might have after all left the man of her thoughts laying so undignified dying, she thought, and it turned out he was alive. If he were dead, then surely, surely, everyone would be able to get into his past possessions. He was a private man, determined to shut himself off from the world, but by Gods, Hermione be damned if individual magic could carry on past the grave. It just couldn't, and Hermione had read that in _Hogwarts: A History_, of which only the founders and others could was because their magic had been a collaboration and also carried on by others, and no one was doing that Professor Snape's.

She was now in the entrance hall and took off towards the storeroom, encountering no one but one spiteful cat, who just glared and hissed at Hermione. Mrs. Norris must be pissed off that she had no authority of Ms. Granger. Ha!

The door was locked and warded. Testing the wards, she could tell that they were stronger than before, but easy enough to lower. Within minutes they were down and Hermione was in. And everything was in place as it should be. Hermione closed the door and lit the lamps to be alone in this room. Professor Snape had a spare high collared robe on a hook behind the door.

_Well, now that you're in, now what Hermione? What did you achieve? _

Biting her lip she crossed to the ladder and sat on a rung. Nothing made sense, nothing seemed to have a purpose and she was sure she had been onto something. Just a dangling of something. Fisting her hair, she groaned and stomped the floor, making the ladder swivel a bit and a glass jar was tapped.

_Shite! _

Hermione rose, climbed the ladder and looked at the glass jar to put it back where it should be. Sopohorous beans. Her mind ticked over and remembered that they were in Draught of the Living Dead and very few other potions. Perhaps they weren't placed back from using them for sixth years. She scooted them back onto the shelf and looked around from her height, brushing her hair behind her ear. Some jars were sat apart from others as well as a black leather bag. Reaching over, she hefted the weighted bag down the ladder with her and peered inside. It was full of shrunken items.

Perhaps the Potion's Master was working on something and dropped this off. She clasped it shut and left the store room, re-warding the door, and left for her dormitory.

Sitting crossed leg on her duvet, Hermione stared at the carrying case that she had lifted from the store room, now sitting on her desk. She had stolen Professor Snape's bag, and was expecting him to swoop out of some corner and berate her, then cast an unforgivable curse on her. Taking deep breaths she told herself:

"O.K. Hermione. It's O.K. He's not here. Nothing wrong. Just a peep inside, is all."

Opening the clasp, and removing the insides carefully removed a test tube rack filled with vials secured in with rubber stoppers; pipettes; burettes; deflagration spoons; measuring spoons; splints; stirrers; beakers; thistle tubes; burners; clamps; tongs; crucibles; pedestal and mortar; and tubing upon tubing with connectors; cauldrons; and last of all, notebooks. Three notebooks.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. This was intellectual stimulation that she needed, longed for, now that Voldemort was gone and her friends working, she was left to herself, with no goal. Now, she had a goal. _What was Professor Snape doing?_

Enlarging the equipment and placing them on her floor and desk, she lastly returned the notebooks to their size and ran a trembling finger over the leather bond cover. It was ink stained with fingerprints on the corners and edge where the owner must have turned to open and close it. She checked for traps and wards on the books and finding none, flipped open the cover of one.

It was definitely Professor Snape's. There was no dismissing the cramp and spiky writing. Flipping through the pages she saw he had filled in almost every white piece of parchment inside with notes, jotted all over, with torn pieces of paper tucked inside as markers, and there were diagrams and pictures, charts and numerical systems inside. The other two books were just as similar. But, there was one underlying problem with all three notebooks. They weren't written in English: they were coded. He had written them in some other language or something as the writing, was most definitely not readable to her.

Professor Severus Snape became more intriguing the more she got to know him. Well, first off to decipher the blasted thing. And if Hermione J. Granger could solve his logic puzzle potions first year, she'd be damned if she couldn't solve this system at 18 years of age now…

Opening her satchel and removing bottled ink, quill and parchment, she proceeded to copy down a sample page of his work, and then let it dry as she flipped through the books more slowly, looking for anything that resembled a sort of key to unlocking his works. But, knowing him, he kept in his memory, and locked away somewhere.

She found nothing. Looks like a trip to the library was in order then, first thing in the morning. Hermione was exhausted after all this excitement and promptly fell asleep for the next few hours.


	2. For Pleasure

I would like to thank all those who read the first chapter and left a review/alert. Just to put it out there--I am looking for a Beta, if interested, let me know.

Again, thanks, I do not own any of this, JKR does, and I just like to take her characters out to play with and put back later.

This is eventually HG/SS fic for those wondering. I may not have things correctly, and that is my fault, but bear with me until I can get a Beta to double check over and then I'll go back and fix.

_

* * *

_

_I am here again. I am in Malfoy's Manor. This time I am standing in the doorway and I am watching myself be Crucio-ed by Bellatrix Lestrange. I turn away in disgust and looking down see a giant snake coiled around my feet. _

_I am terrified and avoid looking at its eyes, but it starts raising its head up towards my height. Bellatrix is cackling with delight in the background. Any moment it's going to strike; I know it. _

_I will jump back the second it does to avoid its fangs. Then I will wake up. It's a recurring pattern with little variation lately. _

_But, this time as I jumped back I bump into something solid and am shoved aside. _

"_Argh!" I look back and see that Professor Snape has been bitten and is now bleeding. Nagini has disappeared. Bellatrix has stopped laughing and has come over now, pointing her wandless hand at me now, and leaving my other self alone. _

"_How fitting that two spineless, worthless filthy blooded pigs find themselves in the muck where they belong? The only difference from him, you and me is that I must defend my place in the world from beings like you two, masquerading around like you deserve to live! And I get Azkaban?—"_

_My dreams have never gone this far. _

"_Let her be…" Snape sputtered _

"_Oh shut it Snape! It's mostly you that's responsible, falling for a Mudblood that first time in school and now look, another Mudblood you're willing to protect---go on, protect all the Mudbloods in the world and I'll be there right behind you to kill them off—"  
_

"_Granger...stop this nonsense … move on…stop looking…"_

"_No!" Everything was fading—_

And Hermione woke screaming. It was always something to do with looking whenever she dreamed of Snape. _Looking, and now look at her, searching for answers, _She turned the sconces in her room on with a flick of her wand—Bellatrix's wand—which she slept with beside her bed.

She rubbed her blurry eyes as her heart raced slower. She saw that Professor's Snape's items were still left out. Getting out of bed, she looked at her clock and saw that it was only four thirty in the morning, and knew that she wouldn't be getting back to sleep. These dreams and different variations kept her awake for the longest times, even ones of the final battle. She was sure that she wasn't over her depression; the wizarding world had no equivalent of psychologists, and she'd be damned before waltzing into a Muggle one and spilling out all her darkest secrets and truths—she'd end up in a psych ward faster than you could say Quidditch.

The library wasn't open yet. The castle was asleep and she was now revving to go as soon as she got dressed.

A few moments later and Hermione was done. And she found herself looking at her copy of Professor Snape's notes. The library should have books on various linguistics, if not then Professor McGonagall might know where to go. But she'd want to know what this all is first, and where she got it from. _Right then, she's off the list._ No other Professor she felt she could trust with this.

She could go to Diagon Alley and check out their books on codes or languages, if this is what it is.

Perhaps she'd try that first as Professor Snape seemed too clever for an average school's academia collection.

Before her wristwatch said five thirty, she was Apparating out of Hogsmeade and outside of the _Leaky Cauldron_ on Charing Cross Road. Pushing the door open she saw Tom sitting at an empty table reading an early copy of the _Daily Prophet_ while some wizards were sitting in a tight corner talking in low voices.

Tom lowered his paper and smiled at Hermione, "Hermione! Nice to see you so early! Aren't you still in school, though?"

"Yes, but I need to get some supplies before school," she thought fast.

"Nothing Hogsmeade could provide?"

"Oh, no. Just that I prefer to shop here and get some fresh air.'

"Course, course." He lifted his paper, obviously losing interest.

"Well, then" Hermione strode to the back, pulled out her wand from her jeans and tapped the brick that revealed her first introduction to magical society: Diagon Alley.

All the stalls were shut, the stores with their windows drawn closed and lights were still off. Still early, the street was only lit by a few lampposts. Wherever shadows were, Hermione would swear she saw eyes glowing in the eerie shades of cat yellows, but the eyes seemed slightly larger than a cat's.

Drawing herself taller, straightening her spine, and tightening her grip on her wand inside of her robe, Hermione went walking. She decided that she would walk to _Flourish and Blott's_, check their hours and then return after her walk when it opened.

Walking past the Apothecary, Hermione made a mental note to check against Professor's Snape's storeroom and whatever lists she could make out as ingredients in the once decoded books. Across from the shop were precariously staked and piled dangerously pewter cauldrons, all chained up with a long magical chain as high as Hagrid. Inside the window was displayed various steel, titanium and gold plated cauldrons, catching Hermione's eye. She cringed a little thinking of letting Neville anyway near them. His very presence might cause one to melt.

She had made it to the book shop and saw that they opened at seven. Checking her watch again she saw that it was just pass six. Looking around for any sign of life, she started heading towards _Gringotts_ when she saw that Knockturn Alley sounded rather lively. She could make out movement down there as well. She had never been down that street before, and thought as Professor Snape was familiar with the Dark Arts, and ex-Death Eater, his works might be related to them. _Perhaps they had a book store down there that might be open or somewhere that might help. _

Without a second thought, Hermione went down the dark path and into Knockturn Alley, and held her wand even tighter so that her knuckles were strained. A Mudblood heading into Pureblood territory--should be fun.

"Hello sweetheart, care for some company?" A rather haggard looking woman in crimson robes pushed herself off a wall were three other witches were gathered. Her face was painted up terribly in vivid reds and her body reeked of Ogden's and cheap perfumes.

"No, thank you," Hermione was going to keep walking past, when the witch hurried to her side.

"A sweet dear like you probably hasn't experienced another woman's company before. If you desire, I can look like a man for you—anyone you fancy? Give me specifics and you got it, special price as I'm getting ready to leave off—"

"I'm not interested," Hermione was ready to curse this witch any minute with a leg locker curse, to keep her legs closed as a blessing to society, when she stopped and turned to look at the witch who was now goggling at something behind Hermione in a rather starved looking desire.

Hermione turned and saw she was outside of a shop named _Devil's Devine_, and barely three steps away from her was a wizard with almost shimmering platinum hair and twilling a silver snake encrusted cane.

"I do believe, Juliana, that the witch stated she is not in need of your services," Lucius Malfoy sneered. He looked down at Hermione and his lip curved predatory like. He was lounging outside the building apparently just standing there, but as Hermione took in the store, she realized it wasn't a store. It was a brothel. Witches in lingerie were in the windows and wizards were exiting with soft music wafting in the air . The way that Mr. Malfoy looked told her he must have just left, as he looked rather relaxed and satisfied.

"I do not need your assistance Mr. Malfoy, but thank you all the same," she was determined to stay out of this man's presence, even though the Wizengamont found him innocent of most charges. Really, gold does speak volumes.

"It would appear that a young mud— Muggle born witch walking down an ill reputed alley would take care to do so with a partner. Allow me to be of service?"

"And why should I trust you?" She narrowed her eyes at his slip up.

"Because I have no intention of seeing the inside of Azkaban again. Once is more than enough."

Hermione eyed the beautiful man up and down, in his silks and fine tailored robes. She couldn't help but think of Little Red Riding Hood looking at the wolf.

"You don't know where I need to go."

"Well, what are you here for, if it's not for any _physical _pleasure as the stores don't open up for some time yet…and you must be of age as you can see them…" He purred casting his eyes on her again.

"I'm in need of…" her voice trailed, unsure of trusting this man or not. He was evidently a good friend of Severus Snape, letting him be god-father of his son. Perhaps he could help, or was trustworthy enough. Not that she could forgive him for all his mud-slinging and pureblood rubbish.

"Look, I know we have some, rather…rough patches and such to smooth out. Why don't I take you to breakfast and we can discuss the future of the wizarding world and such?"

"No, I'm here for some items, then I must be going—"

"Of course, but surely you haven't anything to eat yet—"

"As a matter of fact, I have—"

"Ms. Granger, you are as transparent a Gryffindor as any. Come, eat with me, and we can discuss your real reason for being here." Placing a gloved hand on the lower back of Hermione, he guided her down a few buildings and to a rather upscale looking building. She felt slightly disturbed that he would touch her and stiffened immediately. He withdrew his hand from her body but left it hovering over where it was.

Upon entering, Hermione understood that this was not any normal pub on the street, but some upscale, dark place. The floors were highly polished so that Hermione was sure that if she was wearing a skirt, any wizard would be able to see her reflected knickers. Directly opposite the door were a podium and a waiter in form fitting black waistcoat and trousers, with a white shirt as the only sign of light clothing. His dirty blonde hair was greased back and seemed frozen in place. _Perhaps he idealized the Malfoy's_, Hermione snickered behind a hand.

"Good morning sir, my I direct you to your room?" He asked Mr. Malfoy, taking in Hermione's form.

"Ah, no," he chuckled as Hermione glared at him, understanding the undertones. "I have business of a rather less _sensual_ nature. I will require my booth, and some food for the lady. I have already sated my appetite more than once this morning," he chuckled.

The waiter bowed slightly and started walking with the pair following. Hermione took in more of the place. There were crystal chandeliers and thousands of candles around the ceilings and on the wall sconces. The walls were wood paneled with fine tapestries hung on them with portraits in the spaces. Hermione saw that the place was a dining establishment and inn, and few people were about, the others most likely sleeping still.

Entering a small alcove with incense burning on a small side table and silken cushions laying about on the floor, Hermione shifted an eye onto Mr. Malfoy who pointed for her to sit at a small table with leather winged back arm chairs. Hermione did so and Mr. Malfoy sat opposite her, setting his cane/wand on the table. The room was slightly dark, smoky, windowless yet very private. She had a passing thought as to what the pillows laying about were for, but looking back at Malfoy senior, she didn't want to go there with her thoughts and her cheeks raising in temperature. Lucius then removed from his inner robe a small, cigarette case, flicked it open and removed one. His long, stately smooth fingers handled the case in a quick movement and had the thing lit and the case back away before Hermione could blink again.

"You don't mind?" He didn't even look like he cared for her answer as it was lit and he was puffing before she could even open her mouth. "So, what do you care for to drink, child? _Pumpkin juice? _Coffee? Tea—" he chided, as if speaking to a three year old.

"Tea's fine."

"Right then. Two teas it is," Mr. Malfoy said slightly louder and on the table appeared the teas, with biscuits, cream, carnation milk, sugar, dollies and spoons. "And to eat?"

"Whatever you have is fine," she said.

"Oh, right then. I guess that's it then. I never eat breakfast when away from home," he stated as he set about preparing his drink. "So, what is the brightest witch of her generation doing about in a scum hole as this?"

"I was looking around; waiting for Flourish and Blott's to open."

"Hmmm. And that is all? I should ask why you aren't keeping the ginger brood of Weasley's men's bed sheets warm…"

"I could ask the same. Surely your lovely trophy wife wouldn't appreciate you sleeping around with—"

"What she doesn't know won't harm her, besides, what's good for the goose is good for the gander." Hermione blushed at this remark. Apparently the wealthiest of the wizard population dappled around in sexual pleasures. She had heard rumors of Death Eaters reveals involving such entertainment, but her naïve mind had thought it ended with that, and no one else did. But the way Mr. Malfoy could turn on his charm made her squirm a bit under those silver eyes that seemed to stare only at her, through her. She hoped he wasn't a Legilimens and kept her eyes away from his. She wished she had the opportunity to study Occlumency.

"Ron is working at the Ministry, so I hardly see him at the moment. We owl each other frequently though."

"He dares to let an attractive witch alone, wondering Knockturn Alley un-chaperoned?"

"Mr. Malfoy! I hardly need chaperoning after fighting Voldemort and Death Eaters—"

"You will not speak the Dark Lord's name in my presence! Remember girl, not only you fought that war, and some us were in more than one," he snarled.

Hermione bit her lower lip. She needed to remember who she was with, and how powerful this man was, former right hand of said Dark Lord. He could snap hot and cold with the blink of an eye and probably had reflexes to match. Hermione still had her wand hand over her method of protection and rubbed the bit of wood for comfort.

"Forgive me; I still am recovering from the losses."

"You never will no matter how long time passes you by. It's something that never goes away, just loses its intensity of pain. Pain always fades away, but it leaves scars, visible or not."

"Very true."

"What were you going to look for in _Flourish and Blott's_ that you ended up here instead?"

"Well, it's not open yet—"

"Evidently—"

"—yes, and so I came here seeing if any bookstores were open."

"Are you looking for something borderline dark arts?"

"I don't quite know."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"I don't know what I am looking for until I found it."

"How will you know?"

"I have a sample that I will compare it to and then know."

"What is this sample?"  
"Writings, I think. Possibly runes, but they look totally different. Some type of code. Possibly runes," she said again, "but I'm not sure."

"Do you have it on you?"

"Yes."

"May I?" He held out an ungloved hand and Hermione felt herself drawn into his cold, grey eyes, obediently reaching into her robes and removing the paper sample. "Thank you."

Lucius Malfoy looked at the paper for a few moments, tracing over the writings quietly. Hermione used the time to study him, watching his eyes crease around the edges and his brow furrow a bit. He lowered his nose and studied the parchment. She was struck by how much Draco resembled his father, and wondered if he would age so finely, most likely, as his mother was equally gorgeous, but the whole lot seemed slightly dysfunctional. But, they must love one another somewhere in their hearts as they proved during the war. His hands moving slightly drew Hermione's focus as they looked so familiar, yet not as sophisticated, or callused and ink stained as another she had watched for many years and thought of many thoughts not appropriate for a girl her age for a man his age with that much skill and concentration…

"This isn't runes that you learn in school," Mr. Malfoy said, straightening again.

"I know, I would have recognized—"

"Do you know what type of runes this are?"

"No, that's why—"

"You should return later to my home. You won't find the answer to cracking this anywhere here, or in _Flourish and Blott's_."

"So it's runes then?"

"Yes, a very obscure type that fell out of use centuries ago. Only a few books with the encryption and deciphering methods are in existence, and I believe I may one of them that match up to this in my library, should you care to visit."

"No offense, but I hardly doubt I can step into your house after last year unless something substantial would be at stake…"

"How tactless of me. Of course. Understandable enough. Look on it as more of an amends if you care to."

"Can't you just owl the book to me?"

"Oh, no. I would rather that my possessions stay in my home. Tell me, where did you find this?"

"I just did and need to know how to read it."

"So then, I suppose you would like to read this book?"

"Yes, what's its title?"

"Come by and see it."

"Can't we meet up again and you bring it with you?"

"Only so many people know about this. Are you…no," he shook his head so his long strands of hair caught in his robe oddly. Hermione wondered what he was about to say that he paused and changed tracks. "I will be hosting a Christmas ball. Invitations will go out to all your friends and all those high and mighty individuals who would rather I rot in prison. It will be a gesture of my goodwill towards everyone, since I am a fair and forgiving person. It will also put people more at ease seeing that I am vying for the public's acceptance of my _out casted_ family."

"I suppose money helps with that," Hermione muttered.

"A bit, yes. However, if you bring this paper with you then, I can guarantee you will be given a few moments alone to see that book, under one condition."

"Mr. Malfoy, I have learned better than to sign up for conditions if they are binding."

"Nothing terrible. I promise," he grinned wickedly. "I want you to bring your friends along."

"Why is that?" Something about that just seemed weird, like a set up. But then she would be allowed access to his library of pureblood, ancient, dark arts literature that was possibly never seen by many before.

"Simply for publicity, should the Boy Who Lived Twice, Brains and Brawns attend, others will as well."

"And you will send out invites and such to the Ministry, Aurors and others to come to your home?"

"I believe I mentioned something of the sort already."

"And what if no one shows?"

"If they don't they don't, but I believe they will. They'll come looking for anything to send me back to prison, and in finding nothing, will have to accept my family into society again. Thus, establishing my status, and reinventing myself, favorably, for my family and businesses."

"I'll consider it Mr. Malfoy."  
"Very well then." He stood and rose, and Hermione did so as well. He left the establishment with Hermione in tow. "Oh, Ms. Granger," he said turning to her before she wondered out into Diagon Alley.

"Be sure to wear something, special. Should you need assistance, I'm sure Cissy will be obliging to offer her time. _Twilfit and Tatterings_ might be suitable. Draco is awfully partial to strapless gowns…so am I," he smirked, "good day Ms. Granger." With a few lazy steps and swish on his toes, he was gone in a slight pop.

Hermione could barely catch her breath to even retort back at the thought that Mr. Malfoy may have insinuated that she doll herself up with the help of his wife to suit his son's taste, or even his. _What had gotten into that man?_

She couldn't believe it; she will have to owl Harry and Ron right away to meet with them. They had a Christmas ball to go to so that she could visit a library--all in the name of decoding Professor Snape's notes written in some unknown runes.

This was turning into an interesting day already, Hermione thought looking up into the sky lit by dawn. _Flourish and Blo_tt's should be open now, but she had no reason to go. Instead she went to the post office and sent an owl to Ron and Harry asking to meet them tonight in Hogsmeade.

She had under a month to start convincing.


	3. To the Manor

Hey everyone! There might be one more update this coming week and that'll be that, until after finals week. I am going through e-mails that people sent interested in being a beta, but because of many other people's commitments, I just might just call off of the search and attempt it myself. So thanks to those you e-mailed, I will contact you guys later!

For now, if reading back I find something, I will and fix it and replace the chapter.

I do not intend this to be a quick read, and have planned this out to be almost novella/novel length, and will not do those silly 70+ chapters that are about two paragraphs in length. Promise. Those just bug me.

Thank you reviewers! I would give you all a cookie if I could!

I do not own, tra la la....enjoy!

* * *

Of course she hadn't told them why she had been anywhere near the wealthy pureblood whose home they were now standing in front on their long drive. She had told them though that he was determined to turn his life around and thus had extended an invitation for them to attend his Christmas Ball, in hopes that it would become an annual affair, pushing the past into the past and so on. She could still recall part of the conversation:

"But, Hermione… why?"

"Shut up Ronald. I just told you, he probably wants to give Draco hopes of attaining good marital aspects or something and proving to the world he isn't pure evil."

"But—" Harry started.

"Harry, you will need something nice to wear. Something like you wore to the Yule Ball or something would work, with alterations."Hermione was determined not to give them an opportunity to talk.

"Hermione—"

"Yes Ron?"

"Really, what's all this about?" She took a deep breath before answering. Could they handle the truth yet? They still thought her sensitive and were tip toeing on egg shells around her when they did visit her, all because she wanted to continue in school. They looked at it like she wasn't ready to face the world, like they were. They were now 'men', like facing a dark wizard wasn't enough to get one into this status.

"Really? I want to prove to the Malfoy's that I can hold my head up and prance around their home like it's nothing. I want to walk in there and own the place. Show them that a witch like me has as much right to breath the same air like them and rub elbows with them. Malfoy seemed to want to make it up to me, and all as well." _Well, it was partially true…_

A week later the invites went out and Harry and Ron really believed her then.

Hermione hadn't really seen much of Ron since then. She would go out with Harry but Ron would say he was busy catching up on Auror homework. So unlike him, Hermione thought. Harry just said nothing. When she did see Ron, he was very quite or ramble on nervously about nonsense then go beat red in a flush that covered his hair roots down under his shirt.

Hermione would just roll her eyes and carry on.

She hadn't gotten much further in finding any runes that matched up to the notebook markings and hoped when she got to Malfoy's that there was an answer there. She had careful shrunken Professor Snape's potion equipment and stored the carrying case in her underwear compartment in her school trunk. Then it was warded. What would Professor Snape think if he knew his possessions were safely hidden away next to her knickers and then warded?

Hermione had the first real giggle fit she lacked in ages over that thought, and the ensuing scowl that would follow on the Professor's face. Not to mention the House points she would lose.

She had then a few days prior to the Ball, set out with a hefty bunch of her Galleons withdrawn from Gringotts _to Twilfit and Tatterings_ in search of a gown. She hadn't taken up on the offer to involve Narcissa Malfoy, no matter how helpful she may be.

When Hermione had entered the shop she was expecting something snooty and extravagant. There were just the usual robes up front for school uniforms and everyday where. Perhaps the Malfoy's were mistaken in their classy outfit wear, but they did dress well…

"Is there anything in particular that I may interest you in?" A very beautiful witch came up to Hermione from her side, causing her to jump a bit unexpectedly. The witch's face was rather tightly pulled looking, and she had heavy eye shadow and overly rouged cheeks, but there was denying her airs and graces that accompanied her.

"I'm looking for a gown to wear to a Christmas Ball," Hermione replied.

"We have some on the racks in the back. Follow me," she didn't even wait for Hermione to say anymore before Hermione found herself trotting after this woman. The witch paused in front of a rather shabby looking rack and pointed. "This is our selection that I believe will suit your price range…and tastes."

Hermione flashed daggers at the witch and then took in the rack closely. Frumpy and outdated, these wear robes and gowns that were dated around the medieval period. Hermione stood taller, looked at the witch, and said, "I am attending a Ball hosted by Lucius Malfoy—"

The witch's eyebrows shot up almost into her hairline, "Are you Ms. Granger?"

"Why?"

"Come with me," the witch turned and walked a bit slower so Hermione could keep up and took her into a back room.

Here was where the pricey stuff was kept, thought Hermione as she saw the finery laid out on racks, boxes, and display cases. This room was temperature controlled and scented with vanilla and slightly less bright. She saw skirts with gems, dresses with sashes, robes with gold threading and furs.

"Mr. Malfoy's associate has connected up an automated debit system from this store to his account. His instructions were that you would be able to find anything suitable to wear, no matter the expense and not worry about the cost. The Malfoy's are fond of strapless—"

"Mr. Malfoy's associate? Who's that? Do I know him?"

"I don't know if you know him. Mr. Malfoy gave those instructions I told you and left it at that. We value our clientele's privacy here. A friend of the Malfoy's is a friend of ours," she sneered at Hermione slightly.

"Well. Never look a gift horse in the mouth…" Hermione sighed. The Malfoy's were a strange lot as it was. She had enough things to worry about than who this benefactor could be. Setting about looking at dresses for the better part of two hours with the witch and then having her resize and tailor it, Hermione had left the store bouncing like a child with her shrunken purchases, a smile across her face. Deep down she squashed the part that told her she must have purchased an outfit and accessories that was worth at least two to three of Mr. Weasley's paychecks. She never even spent a knut.

* * *

With Ron by her side, and Harry and Ginny linking arms on her other, they knocked on the Manor's enormous knocker. The door swung open immediately, and in the foyer they could hear what had to be hundreds of people already there chatting and merry making. An elf was looking up at them before he spoke:

"Master has been expecting Potter and his friends." If the trio hadn't known Dobby well enough before he had died, they would have sworn that he was looking right at them. Harry spoke first.

"Are you related to Dobby?"

"I isn't no more. 'e a bad elf."

"Now hold on a minute, that's a horrible thing to say!" Hermione spoke up to the elf who glared at her nastily.

"Is is told by young master to be nice to dirty blooded friends. I no know why. But I do as says," he muttered.

"You bloody better well too," a rather harried looking Draco Malfoy had glided over in his Muggle styled double breasted suit. "Go run along and check on drinks or something useful. Just standing there having all the warm air go right outside."

"Draco," both Harry and Ron greeted coldly. Hermione merely nodded at the miniature version of Lucius.

"Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione. Let me take your outer robes?" He offered and held them on his arm. Hermione was the last to take hers off, and felt slightly flustered as she could fell the three men's eyes on her bosom as she removed her robes.

She had gone for a silk strapless evening gown. It was a deep emerald color, with a heart shaped bodice portion (entirely embroidered in spirals) that gave way past the hips into a flare that dropped off to swish around her ankles. Throughout the gown were stitched infantile bits of silver that, when the light hit it just right, shimmered. Nothing was over done, but the gown was definitely an eye catcher. None of the boys had seen this outfit yet on her. She also had a matching emerald and silver bracelet and necklace. The witch at the store had recommended it and the color was simply breath taking considering it was the appropriate holiday to wear the color for. She smiled shyly at looked down. A young woman Hermione had seen at school approached then.

"Draco, are you going to introduce me to your friends?" She asked.

"This is my fiancé, Astoria," he grinned while slipping an arm around her shoulder.

"Congratulations, when is the date set?" Harry asked.

"Next spring, after I graduate," Astoria beamed while showing them her engagement ring. It was really a splendid signet of worn gold with the Malfoy family crest on it.

"Your Astoria Greengrass right? Your sister is Daphne?" asked Hermione.

"Not for much longer, but yes, she's my sister."

"Slytherins," Ron muttered disgusted, but not quiet enough, as both Slytherins glared over at Ron as Ginny kicked his foot.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you two, but I guess we should go mingle—"

"Yes, what a splendid thing to go do. I'm sure your Ministry pals are somewhere about," Draco turned with Astoria and went off in towards an large room with both oak doors opened.

"Smooth Ronald!" Hermione snapped.

"Sorry 'Mione, but that whole house is like inbreeded and all…"

"Well, I've got to find someone so you guys take care and I'll find you in a bit," Hermione turned and went off to the room ahead of the gang.

Hermione took in her surroundings and admitted to herself, if it wasn't for that drawing room and the torturing that went on there only months ago, she would have loved this place much more. The floor was a luxurious carpet of dark onyx, and the walls too covered completely in tapestries that wove the Malfoy family histories and family tree. The ceilings were painted like frescos way above with all edges throughout the room gilded. She could barely part the crowd due to the immense numbers gathered in this room, and Hermione found herself rather bobbing up and down looking for a sign of some long luminous hair.

She wanted in that library and needed to know how to get there, preferably with permission, though she wasn't against getting in there herself.

Hermione had finally made it to the other end of the long room and wanted to cry. She was now facing one of the biggest ballrooms she had ever seen, almost the size of the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic, and it too was crowded with spinning couples and a live band, people standing along the walls and feeling each other up and down and—Hermione didn't want to see that! If only she knew where the library was…this mansion must be bigger than it already appeared with magical enhanced rooms, and who knows how many rooms hidden away like Grimmauld Place…

"Ms. Granger, I see you have arrived, and where are your friends?" Lucius Malfoy had swept by her and paused with a woman who he bowed away from and came over. Hermione's heart leapt up in her mouth—all that searching that needn't be done now!

"My—my friends are somewhere about. Now Mr. Malfoy, I would like to go to your—"

"Shhh. My dear, come dance a bit with me before we get to business. Pleasure should always come first," he held out a hand and Hermione hesitantly took it. It had been a while since she had danced with anyone.

Lucius wrapped his fingers in Hermione's hand and let his other rest on waist, pulling her tightly against his lean form. He was taller than her and looked down into her hair as she didn't look up at him. When the next song started he then strongly swept her along with the crowd in powerful, elegantly long strides so his legs brushed against hers.

"So, Ms. Granger. How have you been keeping yourself?"

"Very well. And you?"

"I've been better," he paused. "I see you went for a strapless gown after all," he smirked as Hermione looked up.

"Mr. Malfoy, I been wanting to ask you about that. Were you the benefactor?"

"No, but I heard you put a hefty dent into the accounts. Good girl. You do look stunning tonight."

"Who is your associate?"

"I have many of them. I do not know in the slightest you may have left you a shopping spree. Perhaps you left an impression on someone?"

"Mr. Malfoy!" Hermione almost stopped her foot to stop the dance but Lucius had a strong enough arm to keep her moving to the end of the ballroom.

"Ms. Granger. Follow me," they left the floor. Hermione was in a temper now. "You need to learn to control your temper my dear, it's very unbecoming of a lady."

Hermione just folded her arms under her breasts and took deep breaths. She trailed Malfoy through another crowd, but this time they seemed to part for him. They must have went through three rooms and were now in a hallway that seemed well deserted. Lucius used his wand to move a tapestry that revealed a portrait of Draco.

"Abraxas," he murmured and the picture of a young Draco swung open and Hermione found herself following Lucius into his private library.

"Oh wow," Hermione was in paradise. The room was a hexagon, with six sides, all of which were covered completely with books and those books were spelled like the ones win Hogwarts. Way above them, the ceiling disappeared incredibly high, so that that roof was not visible, books took off in flight, flapping about.

"This is a collection of centuries old texts. However, the books you will find here, do not pertain to the dark arts. The one that I think you are interested in is somewhere else, readily available though, only for reading in this room. But first, Ms. Granger. Where did you find that piece of paper you showed me earlier," he refocused his gaze on Hermione as he leaned on his work desk. A fireplace was to his side, and was the only break in the wall of the books. A glorious roar was the only sound while Hermione thought of an answer.

"Truthfully, I found it in a book, of sorts, and I copied out a sample."

"And where was this book?"

"In Hogwarts."

"Was it handwritten?"

"Yes," she bit her lower lip.

"By chance, was it written by someone no longer with us?"

"I—I believe so," she stopped as Malfoy held up a long finger.

"And why are you pursuing this search then?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, I would like to know if he really is gone, as I left him. I left him there, all alone and I thought he was dead. But, when I went back he was gone. Gone! Now, I found some of his works, I want to know if it might have been some of his last projects, to see what he was last working on—"

"And what do you hope to then accomplish?" He rose an eyebrow and tilted his head at her.

"Nothing. I just want to know."

"Are you planning on running back to Potter and the Ministry with your findings Ms. Granger and exploiting anything you might find?"

"No! I would never!"

"Ms. Granger, I would need your word, that once you satisfy your intellect self that you will let be what you may find. I make no promise that you will like it, and some of it may disturb you. But, you are treading in dangerous waters now. I want to satisfy my own debt to you, and believe this will be just compensation. But, I think a wand oath, between us, is good enough in that. So, Ms. Granger," he pushed off the desk and crossed to her. "Hold out your wand."

She did so, and within seconds she was bond to secrecy, and was not able in any way to turn in Malfoy for any dark objects she might see, or find. Nor were her findings to be made public. Should she find any…Everything that she set out on now was between her and Malfoy.

Malfoy then went behind his desk, pushed a button, and looked down as a portion of the floor opened up and a spiral staircase led down. "I must say Ms. Granger, you are a true Gryffindor, with your courage to traipse around my home with me, former Death Eater and Slytherin."

"I believe that everyone is capable of change, sir, and circumstances bring about certain actions in others in times of duress."

Malfoy just hummed at that and lead the way down the spirals case and below laid books of a darker nature.


	4. Proposals

Ok, here's the next one. It'll start picking up in the next chapter which I'm working. I thank again for all the e-mails I got, I promise to e-mail back soon. Usual stuff applies, thanks for the reviewing! R/R's are always fun to read! One of them made me laugh even! Thanks everyone! This is it for a week-ish...enjoy!

* * *

With a flutter of his fingers, the room was lit and the opening they had come through was sealed shut, freaking Hermione out a bit. She suddenly had second thoughts…

"Relax, I don't bite hard I'm told," he laughed. "But don't worry, my dear, you are not quite my cup of tea."

"Thanks for the comfort," she said between her teeth. _It didn't seem that way during the war with your buddies…_

"Do you have that paper on you?" He asked as he turned towards shelves that stuck outwards at angles as a public library would instead of against a wall; these were loaded with books as well from top to bottom. Many of the books were growling as the lights were on and Hermione could see many of them had chains on them that were nailed into the book shelves.

_How friendly. _

"Yes, right here," Hermione gathered her thoughts back and removed the paper from a fold in her dress where a pocket was concealed and enlarged it with her wand. He didn't take it thought. She was busy looking around still. This had to be somewhere under the Drawing Room, because this place reeked with dark objects. Interspaced between the rows on stands and cubbies in the walls were some of the strangest objects Hermione had ever seen. Harry had told her about the Hand of Glory he had came across in _Borgin and Burkes_ and she was now looking at a few in glass case now. The shriveled dry hands were repulsive but she found herself fascinated at looking at them and the legends that came with them. _Were those really from hanged muggles said to be witches and wizards…_

"As fascinating as those are, they are irrelevant to your search. Come along Ms. Granger." Mr. Malfoy had disappeared down an aisle with a tone of despair.

Hermione drew her gaze back to the books that were vibrating on the shelves and read some titles of them: _Blood and Banshee Bones; Vampires A-Z; From Sunrise to Sunset: Darkness and Power,_ and so on in other languages as well… but also many of them had no titles as they were so worn and faded.

She caught up to Malfoy who was muttering as he passed his fingers along the spines of books calming them, and then flipping them open before tossing them back on the shelf. "Granger, give me the paper," he said while looking in a book.

It wasn't long before they both found the book on the bottom shelf. _Typical. _

"Here it is. The Gathurbunk Runes…" he sighed, wiping his brow which had started to gather a sheen over it. _Hermione wandered inwardly if Malfoy even did sweat, or worked out. He looked so fragile sometimes, but others…for a wizard his age he was still very young and very well formed…_

"Gathurbunk Runes? Let me see," Hermione chided herself and drew her mind yet again to the task. He passed her the book and the paper so she could compare and she almost squealed in delight. _Almost._ She almost wanted to hug him as well. Instead, she promptly sat on the cold tiled flooring and was about to start reading when Mr. Malfoy pulled her back up.

"Ms. Granger, let me tell you something about this. You can read it down here only. It is not allowed upstairs, and this will be the only time I will allow you to see it. So, take notes, show them to no one else, them destroy them when done. Yes?" he asked and Hermione nodded back. "Right then. There are 20 runes in this set, and they are based on the Elder Futhark. With all runes, throughout history, animosity arose, but this was considered some of the darkest type even though good and evil ends could come of it and even real witches or wizards seen using this were despised by society. So, if who I think the one who you copied this from used this to write his work in, it must be something he really wanted to keep to himself. And to know of it is something all together. I know that he didn't use my copy to learn it."

She followed him back towards the stairwell. He pointed over to a lounge chair in a corner. "Feel free to sit there and work, when you are done, just come up the stairs and you can leave. Call for Flimspy, and she'll get you back to the party."

"Mr. Malfoy?" He paused on a stair.

"Thank you for everything," Hermione bit her lip as she held the book in her arms.

"Well, you obviously are determined to solve this puzzle you're on. It will accomplish nothing, but might give you and him peace. But remember, what you find will be yours alone. Some things are best left alone, especially if care has been taken to go about it to be so. No matter what you find, I don't need to know though."

"Do you believe he's dead Mr. Malfoy?" He turned then and looked at her.

"What I think and what I know are two different things. Sometimes I often wonder if they go together, but what I know is that he did die a long time ago. Probably around the time after you were born," and with that Lucius turned and left Hermione alone.

Hermione flopped into the chair and thought over what he said. He never gave a direct answer, so perhaps he thought Professor Snape was living as well. _What I think and what I know…what the Hades is that about? _

Hermione looked into the book and copied down each rune and how it would relate to Old English. She would go back and then translate to modern English the best of her abilities later. When she finished she went up the staircase and called Flimspy and then found herself back in the large room she entered from the foyer.

"Hermione!" Ginny called to her. Hermione turned and went towards the brilliant red beacon and Harry. Ron was grinning ear to ear with the dopiest grin Hermione had yet to see. He looked utterly pissed through and through.

"Hey you guys!" Hermione greeted, glad she had accomplished her mission, and now wanting to enjoy herself a bit.

"Where have you been? We gave up looking for you about an hour ago!" Harry laughed, his grin was slightly lopsided well.

"I just ran into some old friends--thought I'd have a talk and all."

" 'Mione!" Ron scooted next to her. He smelled of booze.

"How much have you all had to drink? Gods, you reek of wine Ronald," she said.

"We've been telling him to lay off of it, but you must admit, Malfoy doesn't hold back on his good stuff!" Ginny smiled.

"Plus, I needed some liquid courage." Ron stood straight.

"Courage? Ronald, we are Gryffindors, that's pretty much implied already. What do you need that for?" Hermione eyed him shrewdly.

Then it happened. Ron dug into his pocket and withdrew a tiny black box. Then turning to the crowd, he asked loudly, "Everyone? May I have your attention please?"

People looked about and stopped talking to see what this interruption was, and Hermione was frozen in place. _No…no…surely not…no…not marriage…so soon…._

Then he got down on one knee. "Saw this in one of them Muggle films my dad brought home on a VBS or something…." He then held his offering towards Hermione and with a large smile, asked the question that would forever change their lives. The crowd seemed unsure of what was going on, as this wasn't how it was done in the wizarding world, but some people seemed to know and whispers started circulating faster than fire, and then the occasional gasp was heard.

"Hermione, we've been through a lot. And honestly, without you I'm not sure how I would have survived school or how Harry and I would have survived this past year. From day one, you drove me crazy with your smarts, but I realized that's what make you _you_. I'm also sure that not many people could stand that insane hair of yours, but when you take the time to tame it, I do love your hair. So, would you do me the favor of being my wife?"

Hermione didn't immediately answer and this must have caused Ron to feel like he made a mistake. His smile shrank a little and the audience started whispering a bit more.

While Hermione didn't answer, she was thinking. She really didn't want to ruin her friendship with Ron. Ginny and Harry were making a go at it after knowing each other all these years. No other boy besides Victor Krum had showed her any interest. He still kept in contact now and then and Hermione still had a little thing for him. He was taller, strong, very Romanesque with his hair and facial features, like his eyes and nose... She had last seen him at Fleur and Bill's wedding. But, she just wasn't as taken with him. And then no other boys or men had ever seemed interested in her, and probably would never as she was so committed to her studies, research and academia. Perhaps this was the best offer she would ever get…

"Yes," Hermione said blowing out the air she hadn't known she had been holding.

"What?" Ron seemed surprised.

"She said yes you dolt!" Ginny shrieked and smacked him on his arm. Everyone started clapping and cheering. Ron hugged Hermione and spun her around in a air squashing hug.

"Everyone, meet the future Mrs. Weasley!" He shouted to which everyone seemed to be cheering even harder for. Someone was taking pictures in the background as flashing lights were then blinding her and Hermione felt her hand being roughly lifted and a ring being slid onto it.

Hermione wasn't too sure anymore_…Mrs. Weasley?_ Hermione saw an image of a hoard of bushy ginger haired children pulling on her apron covered with bits of supper and her hands raw from scrubbing….

"Ron, I want to keep my surname," she whispered to him.

"What? My name's not good enough now," he jokingly asked, hushed, pulling away from her and taking in her face.

"I just am used to my name," she said.

"We'll talk about the fine stuff later, ok?"

"OK," she answered, and then her mouth was covered with his and she was given a rough tongue probing kiss as a fiancé to Ronald Weasley. She let her lips open to give him access to her tongue, but he just flopped in there…there was no passion, no sparks, no lust or even sensuality that she had always thought would accompany such a pivotal moment. It was just like in school—the kiss during the war had more of a spark to it, though not much as it was a possible meet-you-on-the-other-side-kiss.

When Ron pulled away and went to talk to Harry and the crowd had then resumed doing whatever they were doing, Hermione found herself starring into the silver depths of Mr. Malfoy senior who was just smirking and mockingly, silently, clapping. Narcissa was next to him and within seconds had dragged him off somewhere far away from her.

Hermione had turned around and now felt dizzy, faint. She wanted to projectile vomit all of a sudden but resisted the urge until she had made it outside of the manor and off the long drive. Bent double she started heaving, and crying not just because she was vomiting, but because she was now really able to accept the fact that she was a woman. She was no longer a little girl, to be protected by school walls. She was a woman who would circulate around other women; most likely with a protruding stomach and a frazzled look about her while her husband did goodness knows what. She just didn't feel that Ron was the one yet. She had thought fleetingly if she survived the war she wanted to shop around per se.

She would set her foot down about pregnancy, sex, Quidditch, and such. _There was no way she was to become Molly, no matter how much she respected the woman, or such. No. Just no buggering way. _

As Hermione was wiping her mouth and stood up, about to clean up the mess she had made, Malfoy spoke from her side.

"Really Ms. Granger, or Weasley now? Marriage isn't so bad. And look at the bright side, you are marrying into one of the oldest wizarding families still around. But, now that I think about it, perhaps I would worry too," he chuckled.

"Piss off," she mumbled from behind her hand.

"Ah, so thankful after all I did. Very well, I guess you won't be wanting this then," he waved something like keys in the air that caught the faint light from the house of it.

"What's that?" she wanted to grope for it, but hesitated.

"It's something I no longer desire to keep in my possession, considering it's practically, virtually, worth shit. You might delight in it though. Consider it a pre-wedding gift if you may," he tossed her a key on a chain then walked away.

Hermione held it up and turned it in her hand looking in it. The handle of it was shaped in two interwoven 'S's' that were back to back. "What's this?" she shouted after him.

"A key," he turned around and stately flatly.

"To what?"

"Have you ever been to Manchester, Ms. Granger?" He smirked, "Our dear Professor had owned some property there. Perhaps you will find it of some use to pay a visit. Anyway, I wipe my hands clear of it all now. Good night,"

"…Good night…" Hermione stared at the key. _Severus Snape owned property in Manchester? Was this a home? Was this a joke? _

_Well, he probably needed somewhere to go when he didn't want to be at the school, or on vacation. What sane person would stick around Hogwarts all year? Me…but then I never said I was sane…_

_Perhaps Harry would know something about it._

"Oh, and I'll expect a wedding invite. Cissy does enjoy dressing up so." With that Lucius was gone again.

She would work on decoding later, after she had tidied up and had a good rest. Perhaps she would ask Harry about this mysterious home as well. She Apparated back to Hogwarts then, and walked the long walk up to the castle, forgetting her outer robes at Malfoy's. He'd send them back to her the next day.

* * *

Hermione Granger, fiancé to Ronald Weasley, was not in a spot of happiness as she sat in the Great Hall the next morning, glaring at the _Daily Prophet_. There was a rather large picture, not unlike the one that Harry and Ginny had when they had made their announcement public. The picture kept replaying her stiff form being jumped on by Ron in a bear hug. Her face was rather stunned.

Then letters from well-wishers she had never heard of before had had their owls assault her breakfast with post that landed everywhere in her meals and hair. Her robes were returned as well in brown parcel paper. Then her fellow school mates wouldn't stop smiling at her, the girls all sighing and wishing her the best of luck marrying on the best wizards in history, a hero to boot. _Little did they know how thick he was…._ Hermione just flopped her head down on the table, her hair barely missing landing her porridge along with three letters all ready getting soggy. She just wanted to crawl into a hole. She still had her parents to tell.

Professor McGonagall had left the High Table and had placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Ms. Granger, a word after breakfast in my office," she looked over her spectacles and gave Hermione a warm look. It wasn't a question.

"Yes, Professor," she rolled her head to look up, then sat up straight. McGonagall left the Hall and Hermione, after collecting her mail and cleaning it off of breakfast, went towards the Deputy Headmistress' office.

McGonagall's office was her Head of Gryffindor office, so she knew where to go. Once she arrived there, the portrait guarding her office swung open with "Thistles" letting Hermione step through.

"Professor?" She called out as the office was quite small, and by all appearances not very large. It did have an archway in the back that Hermione had always figured led to her private chambers. Hermione went and sat down in one of the matching hard wooden chairs opposite her cushioned maroon monstrosity that was so old and tattered behind her desk. The desk was covered with all sorts of odds and ends ranging from miniature lions that chased each other on a corner and sat quietly roaring, to a shrunken snitch that buzzed about and settled down to continue again minutes later.

"There you are Ms. Granger!" Hermione didn't even say that she had been sitting in the open for a few minutes now. "I've asked you here after reading some happy news in the _Prophet _this morning," to which Hermione pasted on a fake smile. Really, she had nothing against marriage, just people that took it upon themselves to assault others with it. "And I would like to offer you and Mr. Weasley an opportunity to use Hogwarts for the ceremony as Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley will as well. Perhaps a combined affair of sorts would work?"

"I really wouldn't know, as we had never even talked about marriage and then he asked me last night. We haven't talked since."

"Of course, of course. Have a talk about it and then get back with me. This is thrilling though, my four Gryffindors getting married," she almost shrieked as she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. _Oh how silly…._

"Was this all you wanted to see me for Professor?" Hermione started to raise herself out of the chair using the arms as support.

"No! No my dear! I understand how valuable your time is and your studies, but I also realized how foolish it is to continue giving you the opportunity to do what you want in your classes, and I'm offering you the chance to take your N.E.W.T.S. next week and leave after them, you know, not come back after the Christmas Holidays."

" Professor, I would rather finish the year out."

"Whatever for?"

"I would like to do things properly, ease my way out. Plus my studies and my projects…"

McGonagall just waved that thought away with a hand, "Are just busy work my dear. The instructors don't really care what you do, they'll pass you. I'll have a word with them about it—"

"No! I want to stay!"

"Child, there is no need to get worked up about it!"

"This is my home! I don't want to leave it yet. It's all I've known for years."

"And it's about time you started to explore outside, don't you think?"

"What about you and the other Professors?"

"We all lived outside a bit before making our way back. Perhaps in a few years you could as well?'

Hermione just held her head in her hands. What else could go wrong? She needed to talk to Ron later as it was.

"Minevera? May I have a word with Ms. Granger, send her up to the Headmaster's office. It'll let her in when she gets there."

"Albus?" McGonagall looked at her pictures on the wall, seeing where the man could have appeared in until her eyes spied him on a castle in the moors. He had a habit of popping up all over the castle and not sticking to his own frames like the other Headmasters did.

"Morning, my dears. Ms. Granger would you do me the honor of a talk?" Hermione rose her tired eyes to see that even painted men could still twinkle.

***

The days of Professor Severus Snape, Headmaster, did not usher in changes to the Headmaster's office besides potions' journals on a side table and a few dark arts books set on the floor. It was still a place reminiscent of Albus Dumbledore's and Hermione found herself almost spiteful of the great wizard who manipulated her friend and professor. _Really, where the hell was Fawks when Professor Snape needed him?_

Looking around she saw the bird stand empty and clean, and as she approached it, it appeared unused for a long while.

"Ah, yes, Fawks. He fled the coup after my death in search of others of his kind," Albus spoke from his portrait nearby. Hermione could see all of Hogwarts' past headmasters and headmistresses looking down on her. None of them were pretending to sleep. _Drat._

"You wanted to have a word with me Headmaster?"

"Well, more than a word, but in a sense, yes. Would you care to sit down? Have a lemon drop? Severus put them away in the second drawer on the right hand side…"

Hermione crossed over to the desk and opened the drawer to remove a bag of candies and saw it was full of all sorts of strange things she would love to dig through, from the noise that emitted from the drawer, but she quickly shut it. Would the candies be stale after all this time?

"Those lemon drops keep for unbelievably long times," Albus seemed to have read her mind. "Once I found one I had lost in my beard two years back! And it tasted just as would have the day I bought them…"

"Fascinating Professor," Hermione was put off opening the drawstring purse of candies.

"I've heard that you are planning of leaving us soon and entering into marriage?"

"Yes Professor, though I would like to stay and finish the year out."

"You could test and get your N.E.W.T.S. done now though, yes?"

"I suppose, but I don't think I'm ready to."

"But you are. We both know that. I think you are hanging around for another reason."

"What would that be Professor?"

"I think you know it, but haven't acknowledged it yet. Tell me, have you decided what to do for your potion's project yet?"

"I've briefly thought of it—"

"You know, Professor Snape had his own lab. I'm sure you would be allowed undisturbed time to use it and brew if you'd like…"

Hermione sat up straighter. "Really? May I? Where is it? I thought that perhaps Professor Slughorn had it and that it was off limits to a student."

"Oh. It's not here. It's at Spinner's End."

"Spinner's End?"

"Yes, I believe you are now in possession of one of the keys to Headmaster Snape's residence, his childhood home he inherited after the death of his father. Severus had managed to convert his parent's old bedroom into a lab for himself…"

"Oh! Mr. Malfoy had given me—"

"Yes, I know. A former Malfoy ancestor used to be a Headmaster here. He told me about last night," he chuckled. "I must say you've an exciting adventure you've set yourself on Ms. Granger."

"But, sir, I don't know where Spinner's End is."

"Well, Lucius told you what city it was in. I've only been there…you know.... I believe that there is a pensive memory in the cabinet over there. Perhaps you wouldn't mind dipping into one of Severus' memories and seeing his home for yourself so you could Apparate there? It'll give you a good vision to concentrate on, no?"

"Wouldn't he mind sir?"

"Ms. Granger, you speak of him as if he was still with us," a very slight smile was playing on Albus' lips.

"I can't help but notice sir, that there isn't a Headmaster portrait in this office of him, the castle won't acknowledge Professor McGonagall as Headmistress, and his body was never found. I left him alone, thinking he was dead."

"I think Ms. Granger, as a young adult, it was excusable. The very fact that you tried to save him counts more than all those out there who did nothing but waste life that day. There are few in the world who would have thought such a man worth saving, and I hate to admit it, but even most Order members wouldn't have either. I think that if it was in his power, he would try to thank you some way or another, just to settle the score. Severus is like that."

"Well, Professor, I think I would like to see those memories."

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore told her where to go and she saw a shelf marked of wispy blue vials that swirled and shimmered in a light of their own with the markings "S.S." beneath them. Albus Dumbledore told her to choose one of the ones in the back. Those were the ones most likely pertaining to his childhood.

Hermione hesitantly lifted one of them and with her wand opened it. She lifted the memories out of the vial and had them float down into the Pensive before falling in herself.

* * *

A/N: I promise to not get all so crazy and lubby dubby with the marriage stuff--that drives me nuts. I would prefer to pretend that DH never happened, but I find it would be better to try to mirror Canon as closely as possible for this story to work.

And no, I don't LM/HG ship...

Thanks hope you enjoyed


	5. Spinner's End

_Hermione was standing behind the young Snape. She would place him at about twelve years of age, and during his summer holidays. He was sitting outside of his home, on the stoop, and he was reading one of his textbooks closely. It was propped up on his knees so it was about eye-level. He was intensely focused and his eyes were so shrewdly drawn together he looked like he was about to set the book aflame just by glaring at it. His hands were tensed as well. Hermione was so focused on watching the boy that when shouting from the house drew her attention towards the front door, she remembered that she should be studying her surroundings. _

_Professor Snape's home in Spinner's End was a semi-detached home on an already old looking council estate. It was a row house, with a strip of flower bedding up and down the pathway that led to an iron gate with hinges that were rusty and fallen so the gate hung a bit sideways and wasn't shut properly. The home wasn't as cared for as the neighbors'; the door was in chipped red paint and the letter box was left in a dire need of a polish—the whole door knob was beyond tarnished. The kitchen window facing out had dingy lace hangings and the window was grimy with dirt; the white paint around the window frame was chipped as well. All the buildings around, though, had a grimy look to them because of the factory pollution over the city from all the years. _

_Professor Snape snapped the book shut and stood up in one swift movewhen he heard the door open and slam behind him. Hermione then saw that Severus was dressed in his school clothes of trousers and white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, minus tie and robes. His shoes were highly polished and seemed very large for a boy his age, but he was almost at his full height at this young age which gave him an awkward, gangly appearance with his trademark hair and nose. Though his hair was shorter, it was long in that it was almost three finger lengths. He must have had a haircut. _

_The person who had left the home without a doubt was the father, Tobias Snape. He had the surly eyes and nose of Snape, but his hair was a dirty blond and his build was heavier than Snape would ever be. _

"_Get in the bleeding house, boy! How many times have I told you not to read that rubbish out front?"_

"_I believe it's upwards of—"Snape had raised an eyebrow to go with his sarcasm. His voice was not yet broken but it still a bit deeper than the average boy. Apparently he had learned sarcasm young…_

"_The house! Should box your ears, boy! Think taking the mickey of me's funny, do you?" Tobias went for Snape but he pulled out his wand from his back pocket which stopped his father; Snape backed towards the house._

"_I warned you last time that you won't lay another bloody hand on me or I'll hex you—" Snape growled as he opened the door. _

"_You're lucky I'm going out right now, but if you pull that funny stuff on me again I'll—" Snape had the door open now as his father's words fell on deaf ears as he heard sobbing instead._

"_You hurt her again, didn't you?" He raised his voice, "You break her wand and then you hurt her…if you come back anytime this summer to hurt her again I swear I'll kill you!"_

"_There's no need to get stroppy about it—"_

"_No need? You are a Muggle! You aren't one of us! You are disgusting! You are not my father! I can't believe I ever came from something so weak and repugnant as you—or why mother even fell for someone like you—" Snape slammed the door shut and Tobias turned and continued down the path, looking around to see if anyone had been watching. _

_Hermione then found herself next to Snape in his sitting room looking down at his mother as she sat crying on a settee. "Let's see then mum," Snape kneeled down after putting his text on a table. The walls were covered in wallpaper so old and stained with nicotine that they were slightly peeling off of the walls. _

_Eileen Prince looked at her son with puffy eyes and a shiner on her left. Snape just gritted his teeth and then healed his mother with a few spells directed at her bruised wrists. "Why don't you get another wand mum? I've been selling some potions at school; you could use that towards a new one…"_

"_Severus, what a boy you are. I'm not taking your hard-earned money. You know that your dad only gives me enough to get you supplies and then that's not enough at times…and he give me only enough for groceries and the likes. It's my fault for not telling him what I was…"_

"_I hate knowing that when I'm at school you're here and not able to do anything about it. It's horrible that he treats you like this when—when we are so much superior than him and—"_

"_Severus! Stop talking like that, he's your father," she whispered looking at her hands. _

_Severus looked at her then and said in his young grave voice, as it had yet to break, "Mum, I am my own person, and I want nothing to do with that monster."_

"_Well then, perhaps when you grow up and marry some nice girl you'll keep that in mind and treat her with all the kindness you can."_

"_I'll never marry a girl mum. She's going to be a witch so that we're equal, and then, there's no way I'll ever become a monster like dad. I'll never hurt her…"_

_Then the memory faded…._

"Welcome back Hermione," Albus said as he stretched. "Find where you need to go?"

Hermione took a moment to answer. She was still a bit shocked at all she had seen and learned over the memory. Harry had told her that Professor Snape had come from a miserable childhood, but this was just awful and that was a little bit she had seen. Hermione wanted to cry for him; as a young boy he had been profiting off of illegally made potions to earn money for himself and even his mother because his father took and broke her wand. Without a wand…Hermione felt that that was a travesty, an unpardonable crime—she already knew what it was like to be without one and there was no way any man would take it from her. And then Professor Snape seemed so adamant to not become horrible like his father and then in a way, she wondered if he had. He had hurt his childhood sweetheart with a few words.

_But did that make someone a monster? _

No. He had asked for forgiveness and proved twentyfold he was repentant, Hermione thought. But, perhaps this was a driving force behind his character.

_Perhaps. _

_What was Albus saying? _

"Did you find where you need to go?" He asked again.

"Yes—yes, Professor. I got a good visual image," she said halfheartedly.

"Very good. See you later then my dear."

"Yes, sir."

The house on Spinner's End was not anything like the dilapidated place she had seen in the pensive. It was worse.

When Hermione had set off for Spinner's End it was after classes and in the evening. The air was chilly and crisp enough that a dandruff of snow was lazily drifting down in swirls. A lone lamppost was flickering so all the row houses in the dead end of the street were shadowed and appeared abandoned. Windows were boarded up and the yards overgrown. For-rent and sale signs were stuck on the low brick wall borders lining the sidewalks. Dried weeds were crumbling on the walkways. The neighborhood was neglected and besides a stray cat creeping around an abandoned rusty car, Hermione appeared to be the only living creature around.

She found Professor Snape's home at the end, not much different from the memory, just a bit more in a pitiful state. She had to climb over the gate as it refused to open now. Near the door she checked for wards and found a few weak ones set that she had down in a moment. When she got to the faded and peeled door she stuck the key in and with a jiggle it opened in a moment. It was definitely an Anti-Muggle doorknob as the key seemed to hum with magic; he must have changed it after his father died.

And she would have sworn she heard a popping noise and like someone had apparated—and had her wand out in a second pointing in front of her.

Hermione stood motionless straining her ears and heard only her own blood pounding in her ears. There was an adrenaline flowing through her now, and she hadn't felt so alive since the war—this is what she needed—adventure—and now Hermione smiled to herself and kept quite as she flicked her wand to shut the door and said "Lumos" so she could see with her wand. Finding a light switch she turned on the lights and found she was in the sitting room she had seen Professor Snape in all those years ago; but he had changed it. The small table was there with a two chairs, but the settee was gone, and around the perimeter of the room and on a door across the room were bookshelves.

The most interesting thing about this room however, and it didn't escape Hermione, was the lack of dust.

She moved through the other door and found herself in a little foyer area that led to a backdoor probably to the garden; upstairs; and to a kitchen. Hermione chose to go upstairs.

There was a bathroom on the landing, a pullout stairway to an attic, and two separate bedrooms.

Hermione went into the bathroom to take a peak and saw all that was in there was a folded towel with a bar of soap on the ledge of a bathtub. In the medicine cabinet she found a razor and shaving powder. Everything was remarkably clean.

Moving into the bedroom next door she found it had been magically enhanced to be larger. It was a potion's lab. Lining the walls were more potion's ingredients than any storeroom she had so far encountered. There were things in jars with eyes that followed her as she walked around and there was equipment laid out as if Snape was going to walk into the room any moment to continue where he left off. A stool was slightly pushed out as if he had just jumped out of it and walked out. Hermione pushed it back in and left. There was plenty of time for her to come back and work in there now she had access to her own lab.

The next room was Professor Snape's bedroom. She hesitantly entered, fearing he would Avada Kedava her on the spot for such an intrusion. With a few deep breaths she straightened her spine and entered wand first.

It was relatively bare. Bookshelves lined the walls, with a rug on the ground beside the bed. It was a twin and had a wooden headboard. A nightstand had a glass turned upside down. A small wooden wardrobe was slightly ajar. Hermione opened it and saw robes, all black of course. Opening a drawer she found that this wardrobe was magical as well, like her school trunk. There were black trousers, white and black shirts, old and worn underwear and socks which were patched. In the very bottom drawer she found something that stopped her heart: a death eater mask. It's dark, empty sockets stared up through Hermione and she fingered the silver lines that ornamented the face. She wondered what it had seen, and what the wearer had thought; had he enjoyed at a time the horrors so many had suffered from; or was he disgusted at every moment; perhaps he had relished in some of it, as a way of releasing some of his suffering onto others…

Hermione closed the drawer and touched Professor Snape's robes again; fascinated at seeing what made the wizard she had feared so much yet felt slip through her fingers. Here she was with him, exploring his possessions and his life.

Really, it was nothing she would have imagined from the bat of the dungeons, yet it suited him perfectly. And in all honesty, it would have suited Hermione just fine if she was to move in.

Looking around with a back glance, Hermione went down the stairs and into the kitchen. She saw dishes on a drying rack. Apparently Professor Snape liked to wash his dishes unlike Molly—but then she had mountains of them. There was no dishwasher. Next to the pantry was a standing washer and dryer of antiquarian appearances, and a refrigerator.

They were all plugged in still. Hermione opened the refrigerator and saw nothing in there spare alcohol, sandwich spreads and a jar of marmite. Hermione loved marmite. She giggled, imagining that man to love it—she would have guessed that with his fine tuned nose he would have ran the other direction. Ron hated the divine black yeast extract and refused to kiss her after she had it, and thus she would tease him with it during breakfast sometimes.

She looked in the pantry and saw a few boxes of cereals and powdered milk boxes. There was a chest freezer in there as well, and inside were frozen meats like bacon and roasts.

Hermione then made her way out the back into the garden. He had a small green house and upon opening it saw that it too was magically enhanced with temperature control and expansion. It was growing in separate areas various potion's herbs and ingredients and with a frown Hermione bit her lower lip; it all appeared perfectly cared for. After all this time, she would have assumed it would have been overgrown, but then perhaps he had magic so that the garden cared for itself.

Hermione went back in and after a few moments browsing her former Professor's shelves in the sitting room decided that she would return and use this house as her own. Making a mental list she decided several things that needed to be done:

_1). Manicure the yard_

_2). Fresh paint the door and windows ledges _

_3). Get food in the house _

_4). Cheer up the place with a thorough clean and check through all nooks and crannies _

_5). Get acquainted with his lab so she could start decoding and working on his notes_

Hermione thought her list so far was good and would add to it as it came along; but for now she was happy she had come, and sad that its former owner would most likely be turning in his grave (wherever that may be) if he knew she was about to start making regular appearances and touching all his stuff.

With that thought Hermione apparated back to Hogwarts with thoughts of completing her list in the coming month.

Across the street long fingers closed the curtains of the home opposite and waited for a few moments before exiting the home. With a pop he appeared at his door and entered.

Professor Snape uttered a low growl as he hurried through his house seeing if anything was missing or amiss. All he could fault at was that Hermione Granger, bane of his existence had left his doors unlocked.

He had been in his lab when his wards around the home felt the magical shimmer of another being. He had in mere seconds cleared his work and fled down his stairs to apparate out of his garden. It mattered not if any of his possessions were about he thought, as it was his home and he always had maintained a rather sparse existence. Perhaps now, he was thinking he should havemoved out and found another place to live. He was a private potioneer though, and was almost at a point of being able to purchase a new place.

For now though he could move across the street as the whole area was disserted.

But, grinding his teeth, he wondered how she had found out about this place._Only the Malfoys, Lily Potter, and Dumbledore had known about this home. Malfoy was the only other person to have a spare key—and she entered by a key. _

He had thought the girl would leave him alone after he had disappeared. His correspondence with Malfoy had resulted in him leaving the girl a sort of shopping spree for a Christmas party. She had burned through enough galleons to make him cringe but he considered his debt paid now. _She should leave him alone now._

_Hopefully the place disgusted her enough that she would never come back_, he grinned. It wasn't a pleasant place for a young girl to hang out, and he would be damned if she came back with Potter in tow.

_Potter…or that Weasley boy…her fiancé. _

He had heard from Malfoy she was to be wedded soon, so that should occupy her time perfectly. She wouldn't come back.

He went upstairs to see if anything was disturbed and found only his wardrobe different. He opened it and saw immediately that his undergarments had been touched. _What a perverse girl! Messing with a dead man's knickers!_ He set them back properly and went back downstairs.

She also didn't put the wards back up_. Idiot girl!_ Severus re-warded the home and then went into his pantry. He took out some cereal and his powered milk.

He hadn't felt so unnerved since he had gone to Dumbledore to warn him of the prophecy. Dinner ended up on the wall, oozing onto the floor in large plops of frosted flakes.

Severus went into his greenhouse and collected some vegetables he put in the fridge with a roast he took out from the freezer. Tomorrow he would really eat, but for tonight he had lost his appetite and went back up to his lab.

He would visit a wizard post office in Wales tomorrow and send a letter to Malfoy asking why the Hades Ms. Granger was now prancing around his home and not off producing little weasels to terrorize Hogwarts in years to come with frizzy red hair and annoying hand waving.

He paid Malfoy a slight commission to keep his business going by contacting clientele for him and remaining just a supplier in the background, but if he was feeding the girl clues…

_She was too smart for her own good. _

_Really, what was she hoping to find…how he survived? If he was alive? Hello, who did she think found the antidote that saved Arthur…surely not those incompetent Healers…_

_***_

It was now summer and she hadn't returned to Spinner's End since. He was expecting her return during Christmas Holidays but it had not come, and now she should have graduated, and yet she hadn't come back.

That was suiting him bloody well fine, thank you very much. But still, it kept him on edge.

He had started reading the _Daily Prophet_after he had sent a letter to Lucius about the incident. Lucius had responded with "I haven't the slightest inclination about what you are talking about" and Severus had sent a Howler with a variety of choice words that was sure to leavehis ears ringing for a week. And then he had forged a will to give to Malfoy that had directions in the event of his death or disappearance that he resigned post of Headmaster. Lucius had mentioned complications at the school and he had no more bloody ties with that institution, thank you bloody much.

In today's issue of the _Daily Prophet _that he had come across, he saw that it was a special issue with color photographs. On the cover he saw two pairs of newlyweds and was drawn to a beautiful young woman who was demurely smiling after a quick peck of a kiss to that weasel boy. Ginny looked like she was about to eat Potter's face standing a few feet away from Ms. Granger—no—Mrs. Weasley now. Her hair was curled about her face, pinned up onto of her head to cascade down to frame and her makeup looked very natural. Her dress—Severus snorted, he had seen pictures of her gown in a photo in said newspaper from the Malfoyparty—there was no denying that it was an altered version of what he had paid for. He wondered if anyone had noticed that, or the way it flattered her quite well as it was strapless and hugged her slight curves and fell loosely to above her ankles where strappylow heels gave her enough height to be an inch closer in height to her spouse. Ms. Weasley had gone for wedding robes of her family tradition, though Mr. Potter was in what had to be Muggle attire. He had seen photographs of his own father in similar garments in a family album shortly before he had set it into a ball of flames after his parents' deaths.

As Severus finished watching Ms. Granger—Mrs. Weasley, peck the boy again, he rose from his work bench, reached for his pair of scissors and then cut out the picture.

But he had been so distracted by the picture to see that she was not yet married. It was in fact two newlyweds, and they were Mr. and Mrs. Potter and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger were man and maid of honour and also each other's dates. The photographers had of course taken their picture for their impending wedding. But, Severus had not read that in his scanning.

He threw away the rest of the paper into the fireplace and tucked the picture into his drawer under the scales. Why? Because he thought the irony in a pureblood marrying a mud—muggle born was too much to pass up after all he had thought he had fought for to begin with and almost died for...

And then there was the chance that if ever he ran into that know-it-all ever again, he had evidence to shove under her nose that he caught her wearing the same dress twice to a function _and not just any dress…a dress he had bought…_

_Oh, just when the world thought he had fallen off of it…perhaps it was time to now stir the pot…so to speak…_

Severus Snape was beginning to feel tired of being tired and alone. Time was starting to blend together as he was looking out of his potion's lab window he caught his reflection. He did look healthier; his hair wasn't as lanky and his body had put on barely any more weight, but enough that his hands weren't edgy and knobby and his cheeks not as sallow. He was sleeping a bit better and he wasn't suffering any unforgivable curses. Life was marginally more enjoyable. At that he smirked.

His life fell apart all over a woman. And now, he almost had everything he could ever hope for, spare the company of a woman.

And Severus Snape was still a hot-blooded male.

He collected his traveling coat, opened the drawer under the scales, removed the picture and tucked it into his coat, skipped two stairs at a time into his kitchen and left his back door to apparate out of his garden. There was not going to be any brewing tonight in his lab, but plenty of stirring in a rented cauldron.

* * *

ellise johnston is now my new beta and she is awesome! A huge thank you for her! Thank you thank you thank you!

A/N: Some terms are British and I chose to use them as I am half British and spent my childhood growing up in England and now my adulthood in America. Thus, the dialogue is fairly representative of one of my own neighbors' father's who was rather unpleasant.

Also, there seems to be rather an uproar to Ron and Hermione's impending marriage. I never expected such an outcry, and it's rather surprising. But trust me readers as this IS a SS/HG fic and I intended to have them together in the end.

Merry Holidays to everyone and thank you for reading!


	6. The Meeting

Chapter Six

Severus Snape was furious with himself about last night and was consequently throwing a temper tantrum through his laboratory. The stool had managed to end up across the room after flying through what was once a neat row of heat resistant beakers. Sadly, they were now shattered and shards were all over the floor. Likewise, cupboards were open and various, less pricey ingredients were following close in pursuit of the beakers in appearance.

Never before had Severus regretted a night with a prostitute like he was now. He had never given them much of a second thought really, except that he might request one again-and that was that. He rubbed his forehead as he sat against the door frame and sighed.

It was always the same question with the brothel girls in the wizarding world. "_Is there any way you would like me to change my appearance?"_ they would ask.

Usually he said no, and that was that. He had nothing for poor charm work. But tonight he had come across a Metamorphmagus—and she outdid any spell work a witch could do with a wand. Before he knew it, he had asked her to do a few changes and then fell onto the bed with her. When he was all done, he had been dressing when she opened rose and opened the window curtains to let the dawn light in. Severus had looked over and saw the faint blue light illuminate her and didn't bother buttoning his trousers as he grabbed his shoes, shirt and cloak and ran into the bathroom to vomit.

He was still gagging as her image at the window struck him as oddly familiar and then it hit him. He hadn't realized in the dim light who he had asked the Metamorphmagus to look like. He didn't care so long as she didn't have red hair or green eyes—so naturally he wanted some brunette, with chocolate eyes. The hair was not to be silky as Lily's and she was to have a frame not so petite but average. Severus had this unknown, nameless idea in his head that materialized in front of him and in the light of day, he saw he had created the likeness of a person he knew.

With a trembling hand he just used to wipe his mouth, he withdrew from his pocket the clipping of Ms. Granger and saw that he had asked for her likeness last night. Merlin! What had he done? Fantasizing subconsciously about a student—_a child!_

No, his mind answered. She was no longer his student, and was now a woman. A married woman.

But that didn't make his stomach feel any better off.

Bollocks.

Severus Snape rose from the floor and with a few flicks of his wand had the place as good as new. He shouldn't let himself get so worked up. It wasn't like he would ever see the chit let alone let her see him—so any fling would be out of the question, let alone a relationship. She respected him and he would never, ever destroy such an innocent ideology anyone had over him like that since that was rare and indeed special_. He was a bad man_, he smirked. _Very bad_. No matter what anyone says about people changing and not being born a certain way, he knew otherwise.

Rubbing his neck, where his fingers lightly grazed over the puncture scars that were hardly visible he decided that he had wasted enough thoughts, energies, and money on Hermione Granger and would no longer let her well developed womanhood intrude on his solitary existence. He was an old man after all, even though he had about a hundred years or so left to wallow the rest of his life in. Age was different to those who saw life come and go, and grew up-- or was forced to grow up, Muggle. Really though, he never grew up—he was dragged up.

Severus straightened his clothes as looked around his lab and then decided it was well over time that he went for a luncheon with Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione knew that she was tiptoeing on very extremely fine ice around Ron. He was fuming as he had promised to listen quietly to her without any interruptions and seriously consider what she had to say.

She could see that he regretted it.

She had asked him for the third time now to postpone the wedding till next year. He had agreed to after she graduated Hogwarts, and then he had grudgingly agreed to after her internship period for a few months working with the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Now that time was approaching to an end and she was fretting over it.

Ron was becoming more demanding and she was using all of her excuses up and feared he would do something they would both regret later. It wasn't that she was opposed to pre-marital sex per se; it was that she had never engaged in it—not finding that special person she had read all about in books.

She had waited for the right person—not that useless, love struck, narcissist Gildroy Lockheart type that would sweep one off of their feet and ride a white horse into the sunset—no. She was waiting for the person that would make her pulse beat faster, her heart flutter when he murmured her name and who she would admire, and respect and want to strive to please in return for their love and the same. A relationship that wasn't just sex and baby-making and then homemaking, no, she wanted intellectual stimulation. The kind where they would read the morning paper in silence and later perhaps talk about what was going on in the news, or at work and help each other in their research.

Ron was acting like a child over her working on decoding Professor Snape's journals because she wasn't paying him enough attention; they were out of school so what could be as important as homework now? _Really_. Like finding if a dead man was alive after all wasn't important. She had decoded the journal now, and was planning on returning to Spinner's End to try a few promising potions out soon, but she was busy with the world right now.

She knew Ronald wouldn't be that person. He was already making plans, without her input, about her leaving her career and maybe working out of his, not her, home, that he had already went out and put a down payment on without her checking out the place. It was a nice flat, but not somewhere she would have chosen. They had a two-week fallout over that. But back to the career problem: that was a possibility after a few children where in the picture. Hermione laughed at that, like she would have the time with children crawling around. And she only wanted one. Maybe one day two as she knew how lonely that could be, but not anywhere near three or more. Not a chance.

But she knew that her days were numbered in ridding herself of her virginity. She really didn't want Ron to be the one. She had imagined in her mind that it was something special, something that that special someone would do for her.

And then she came across problem number two in her researching about this predicament: Contraceptive potions and spells were illegal to non-married witches and wizards.

She would have decided to use Muggle contraceptives but then she discovered that on a witch they were defunct. Something about magical properties tended to render them useless.

But on the black market a private potioneer could brew them for a hefty price. And Ms. Granger, ex-war hero had a hefty haul from defeating He-Who-Was-Now-Dead and working. She also had heard about some private potioneer from a rather shady man herself, so perhaps this shady man could point her in the direction of another shady man.

If not, perhaps his library would hold some more books she could look over in the Dark Arts section and brew her own in her newly acquired potions lab.

Hermione bit her lip as she remembered she had wanted to do some things to that place to clean it up but it had slipped her mind. Oh, she was rather busy of late and it wasn't that she minded, it was just that she had to reprioritize her life again.

She had finished decoding the journal. She wanted to sit and hone in on the more probable solutions and test them. If only she knew of a way to test the potions.

It was time that she paid Malfoy another visit. She would owl him later for a lunch meeting.

A rather interesting letter lay in front of Hermione within the hour she had sent a request to Malfoy Sr. about a lunch meeting:

_Ms. Granger, _

_As pleasant as it is receiving a letter from you requesting my presence to grace your rather inquisitive person, I must say that I will be meeting with one of my business associates at lunch today. It will be rather boring, as these things are, but I suppose I could meet with you after it ends at the restaurant I will be lunching at anyways. How about at 1pm? I do have a bone to pick with you about your work at the Ministry as well—I now have to pay retirement benefits to my house elves. Really, what would they do with that extra money anyways? _

_With care, _

_L. Malfoy_

Hermione started laughing at the end. She had headed a legislative measure to have house elves at age 400 who wish to retire receive benefits in addition to healthcare from birth. All this was done in honour of Dobby. She had been amazed that many elves opted out of this, she had thought that that would have been a good incentive to have them not freed but quit working for someone else. She wondered if Winky had sought benefits if she was old enough from the Crouch estate.

Malfoy was probably a bit angry because some elves that were currently in his possession had decided to retire and take the benefits in seeing that the end of the war was a great movement for their kind and Dobby had been honoured as a war hero. Others wanted what he had achieved and now went to work at Hogwarts under Minerva.

Hermione was currently living in a rented flat in London provided to her by the Ministry. Ron had wanted her to move in with him but she told him she wanted a bit of liberty before settling down. Not quite the best of words to use as he flushed with anger and left it at that, but it was the truth. She had considered moving into Spinner's End but then she would have to tell the others how she had come across the place and then there was Harry who most likely knew about the place and she wasn't ready to divulge into that mess yet. So she stayed in the flat alone.

She was sitting at the table reading the letter and glanced at the wall clock. It was half past eleven right now, so she had a bit of time to get ready still. She rose and went into her bedroom. The whole place was sparse but it suited her. Nothing cluttered, and everything neat and organized. She opened her closet and reached up onto the shelf and pulled out a black leather bag with the initials S.S. on the clasp that she had transfigured so she would never forget who it belonged to.

She opened up the back and withdrew three journals that were ink stained and worn, filled with tight cramped writings of the one man who made her furious enough to never be bored or skirt on her work all in an effort to achieve perfection as nothing she done was perfect for him. No matter how close she was or spot-on, there was always room for improvement; he taught her that.

She removed three more journals that were almost identical now, ones that she had went out and bought to fill with her translations of each and flicked through them. She had highlighted only three potions that she now wanted to try with Professor's Snape's traveling set. These three were the only ones that had involved the Sopohorous beans, the ingredients in Draught of the Living Dead. And Professor Snape had looked very much dead on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. The runes that had been translated had been easy to crack after she had a key code to start from, considering she had spent years working with them in school. She couldn't help but notice how much she had in common with her current pursuit.

They were both quiet, lonely, intellectuals. Both had achieved the highest scores Hogwarts would ever see and were still young in the wizarding world. That was the problem with school. They encouraged intellectual development but those people who loved learning never wanted to settle into one profession—they wanted to continue to grow and explore and learn everything about everything and there are no professions that do so. One must chose one stifling career path and that was suffocating in itself. So, one must find a passion to feed off of, and Professor Snape's was potions, though it appeared he knew a lot more in other things like Runes and the Dark Arts. Hermione was similar in her pursuits as well.

She caressed the bag and told herself she would hang on to it as long as possible and once she found Snape, or his body, she would then return it to him.

But for right now, her mind pondered on the Sopohorus beans again as she went to change and shower, then put her war paint on in the impending meeting with Malfoy.

Hiding in an alley opposite Knockturn Alley's posh dining establishment, Severus Snape was cloaked in a light black traveling cloak, was Disillusioned, and had charmed his appearance to look rather plain and undistinguishable. He had a rather short hair cut, charmed grey and glasses. His nose was smaller and without its aquiline shape. He felt rather disgusted at the disguise, preferring his own look. It was unique, it was his. _It was Snape_.

He was waiting for Lucius to show up first at the restaurant, as he didn't want to sit around. He knew that that blonde prima-donna would show late, as that was his style when meeting with anyone besides the Dark Lord, so Severus was pacing in the shadows now. The man was almost half an hour late. A bit past fashionable if he did say so himself.

It was almost one o'clock and Severus heard footsteps approaching. It was the sound of a light soled foot with quick steps. It had to be Malfoy as this was daytime in this area and it was deserted in Knockturn usually since the fall of the Dark Lord. Severus stepped out of the shadows still disillusioned and almost sputtered out a gasp mixed with obscenities as images of last night and that morning flashed before his eyes.

Was this the real Mrs. Weasley walking before him as a proud woman with a smart step in her as she brushed right past him? He could almost reach out and brush her frizzy hair as it bounced on her shoulders, but the urge to slap her for saving his life almost was stronger. She had given him the vials and it was she he was indebted too. Surely a shopping spree wouldn't pardon the debt yet. He had to do more, but without her knowing. She couldn't know. He groaned as images of her spread beneath him squirming and moaning caused him to back into the shadows to cool down a moment. No woman had had this effect on him in years.

But then Severus Snape's quick mind flashed to another matter. What was she doing here without the other members of her crew, or her husband? Especially in this dark hell-hole.

A whizzing noise from above announced the arrival of a broomstick and as Severus looked out of his spot he saw Malfoy dismounting from his broom and starting to cross towards the door. He must have an approved transport broom for flying into the center of London, as permits were next to impossible to get. _Typical Malfoy_. Severus reversed his spell and called out to Malfoy to enter the restaurant together.

"You're late," Severus growled.

"Looking a bit old there…what should I call you today?" Lucius laughed at the older man in front of him.

"Tolden. Thought it was about time to start looking how I feel."

"Ah, well, you are years off yet."

"Mind you, I still have enough movement to curse you before you could reach inside your robes."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lucius eyed Severus from the corner off his eye as he shrunk the broom stick and pocketed it. He held the door open for Severus.

"I saw that the new Mrs. Weasley is starting to frequent this establishment now, unaccompanied."

"Mrs. Weasley? Molly Weasley?"

"Former Ms. Granger, Lucius."

"Former? They got hitched already?"

"It was in the papers. Same day as Potter—"

"No, that was Draco and Potter's wedding. She's still Granger I believe."

"So then—"

"You are late Mr. Malfoy." A very angry, very feminine, and very familiar voice clipped from the side as both men fell silent in their discussion as they approached the check in desk.

"Ms. Granger, still, yes?" Lucius plastered a grin on as he bowed slightly towards Hermione and saw that she had her hands balled into fists on her hips. Very authoritative, thought Severus, and in person more attractive than her pictures portrayed.

"Of course, I'm not married yet and you'll address me as such till then," she demanded.  
"Allow me to introduce you to Tolden, my business associate," Lucius waved to Severus.

"I thought our meeting was to be private," Severus turned to Lucius completely ignoring Hermione to the best of his pretending abilities, though his body hummed with her furious glaring.

"Your meeting isn't over yet?" Hermione bit in.

"I was running late, so I think we will do fine talking together. Completely fine," he brushed off. Seemed things would go as planned anyways. "I'd like my usual table please," he nodded to the waiter and started heading off in the direction of the room. Hermione was sizing up Tolden now as if trying to rack her mind to recall if he was a former Death Eater or not.

The pair followed behind Lucius to the room Hermione had been into before and she sat down opposite Severus, still staring at him.

"If you want a picture ask, it'll last longer," Severus growled. The staring was annoying.

"You remind me of someone." Severus flashed a look at her almost of panic, his heart skipped a beat. "I can't think of it. But there's something familiar. Perhaps we've met before." Hermione seemed unsure as she rambled on.

"I doubt that. But you shouldn't stare, it's not polite," Severus looked back down in front of him at the menu. Lucius was off in his own world.

"Lucius, I'll take a black coffee," he changed the subject, hoping he could talk his business with the man and be done, but it would appear that the girl of his topic was in front of him right now, so that might be difficult.

Once the orders were in and the trio was waiting, Hermione broke the ice that had been forming. "Are you the private potioneer?"

Severus looked hard at her. Was this a trap she had set? "Who would like to know?"

"It so happens that is one of the reasons I came to speak with Mr. Malfoy. You see, well," she bit her lip, "I need ingredients for two different things. Things that are hard to get hold off, providing you are not willing to sell me one of the things, I'll brew it myself."

"What are these things?" Lucius' interest had perked up again.

"First," Hermione had removed Severus old black bag and enlarged it. No one saw his eyes narrow, "I have a list here of ingredients I need for some experimentation."

"Hermione, is this that translation of the runes you were working on?" Lucius leaned forward as she removed the journals.

"Yes. All are translated."

"Might I ask what this is and where you got it?" Severus was about to snatch up a book at the mention of translated runes, but she shook her head no. Was it possible that she had translated his works? It had taken him ages to compile those.

"No, I'm afraid not. But here is what I need," she removed a piece of parchment. Severus quickly scanned it, recognizing that most of the ingredients had to do with the antidote he had created. Apparently she was attempting it. _Why?_

"Most of these are rather pricy. It appears you are attempting an antidote of sorts."

"Costs don't matter. I need these and that's all you need to know," Hermione was getting testy at this man's nosiness.

"Hermione," Lucius leaned over farther. "You do know that there was a cure created. Someone you know a few years ago is living proof, I believe."

"Who are you talking about," her mind ticked over.

"Arthur Weasley. Was he not attacked in the Department of Mysteries?" Hermione gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. Severus watched with a smirk. Apparently the know-it-all had missed something. But the antidote that Severus had saved Arthur with was a variant of his own kind and was not available at St. Mungos it was specially formulated, so the girl would need these ingredients on the list anyways, sooner or later, depending on what she wanted to do.

"You're right. But then I would need to know who provided the medicine he had. I'll have to look into that. Hopefully it wasn't Professor Snape," she muttered.

"Professor Snape was a distant friend of mine, very smart when it came to potions," Severus spoke lowly.

"Don't we know," Lucius drawled.

"Well, in that case, is it possible that might contact you later for this list if I still need it?" Hermione asked Severus.

"No, you can communicate through Lucius. What was the other thing you wanted?"

"Well," Hermione blushed deeply. "I…I'm in need of some contraceptive potions."  
Severus coughed and Lucius started choking on his salad. "You see, I'm not married yet, and I don't want my first time to be with my fiancé, so I need this potion to help my predicament."

"That's highly illegal stuff there. What are you planning on doing? Why not go about with your fiancé?" Severus asked. His interest had reached new peaks. So, Lucius hadn't been lying.

"Again, never you mind. Can you provide it; is what I want to know?" Hermione crossed her arms and leaned back. Severus was watching her, contempt on his face. This was not the girl he had known who would shyly keep her head down and followed all the rules.

Before him was a lioness who knew what she wanted and how to push for it. Severus reached into his robes and withdrew some parchment and a ballpoint pen.

"Alright. I'm running short on time and need and to get to my business. Let's settle yours first. I agree to brew you some, provided you don't disclose where it came from, and you don't sell it. You must use it at your own discretion and never attempt to brew it yourself, it could be deadly otherwise—" Severus was listing what he said on the paper as he wrote when he was cut off.

"Excuse me, but I am very capable of brew—"

"I'm sure you are, am I not the potion's master and you are? What? A cretin of the Ministry running around trying to find loopholes for creatures to be equal to us?"

"How dare you! No one has spoken to me like that since—"

"Since when? Since you were in school? When was that? Yesterday?"

"Children! Stop!" Lucius slammed his hand down on the table as the two bickering people were about to draw wands.

"Now then—You," Lucius looked at Hermione, "sign the damn parchment, and arrangements will be made to pay me and collect alright?" Hermione nodded while still staring at Severus. Something about him was unnervingly familiar and it was bothering her, creeping under her skin. The way this wizard talked and his mannerisms…she couldn't place it…

"That list you wanted for the other potions…do you require those ingredients still then?" Severus asked as he rolled up the signed paper and tucked it inside his robe.

"No. Not yet. If I do, I'll be in contact. I'll need that other potion soon though."

"Consider it done, tomorrow at the latest, in the evening."

Hermione rose to leave but Lucius held her hand back in place. Severus had already started to dismiss her from his mind when he saw that Lucius had stopped her.

"You know Hermione, that what you are doing, it could hurt a lot of people. Let the past be."

Hermione did not face them with her answer. "You know, people deserve peace after this war. How can I ever achieve peace with myself when I know I didn't do all I could. He's with me when I wake, when I sleep. When I'm at work I hear him in my head saying some snide remark about my reports not being thorough enough, or my wand work to excessive. You gave me the key to his home, and helped me sort his journals. Now you want me to stop—"

"No. Not stop. Just keep it to yourself. If you were to see him now anyways I doubt you'd recognize him if he was alive. People grow and change Hermione. It's time you moved on as well."

"A lion never changes her fur—"

"No, but a snake does change its skin." Hermione had nothing to say about that. With a beat she shrunk Severus' bag and left.

"Is she gone?" Snape asked.

"Hmm."

"What do you think about all that?"

"Did she have a thing for you in school?"

"Lucius! As if I'd know anything about silly school girl fantasies…"

"Well, if she didn't she's going to get some romantic notion about you in her head. Hero status or something. Perhaps you do know with that mind-reading you can do…"

"I am perceived as some love stricken, heartbroken tortured soul of a hero now. Why do you think I want to left alone in peace and avoid all those women at functions who—"

"Yet it is these woman that you crave and sneak about with late at night. Why don't you come out of hiding? Almost everyone's in Azkaban and you are all cleared."

Severus studied his transformed hands before he answered and licked his lips. "Because, some people never do change. Look at me. I don't deserve to walk among anyone descent. I've been indirectly responsible for two wars. Think of it. Lily could have been with me if I didn't utter that one word and stayed away from you lot. She warned me."

"No. You two were more like brother and sister. If she really loved you she would have socked you one and then made passionate love to you and you two would have been at it like rabbits. She played you and the others. She was in the thick of them with Potter and the rest, day in, day out in that tower. She got to know them all the time and stuck to comfort levels. You were made out to be the creepy dungeon kid with greasy hair and what not. Severus, move on. You and Hermione are a fine pair, stuck in the past and sulking about when the future is bright! What was it you wanted to meet me for?"

"Were you late so that we all would meet together?"

"Very perceptive as always. And you wanted to meet me for?"

"Why did you give that girl my house key and that book to help decipher those runes?"

"That house is worth dirt to me but the girl could use it as a retreat in her marriage and all. Plus, you set up a lab she could play in. Draco told me she really liked potions and was top-notch in it. Sounds like you. Perhaps she could be persuaded to be a potions mistress. Be better than working with the Ministry, I'd say."

"And the book?"

"I was trying to settle your debt a bit, and then try to break the ice between us purebloods and the mud—"

"Don't say that word, Lucius. You know what it means to me."

"Very well. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf—"

Severus rose then. "I'll have her contraceptive potion owled to you later. Tell her it's free of charge this time. I'll owl you for further business."

"And why would you do that?"

"I don't want a woman like her to ruin her life, like mine."He pulled his cloak tight around him and left Lucius staring at the cold teas pondering.

Severus had a lot to ponder about the mighty witch that had just left. She had almost recognized him, he was sure of it. That strange look in her eyes as she overworked her brain was there, churning desperately, he smirked. He wondered if Severus Snape floated through her mind as an option.

Then there was the fact that she had translated the journals he had left in the castle. How did she find them? No one should have gotten into his cupboard—but then she had done it before. And the translations were accurate if she had narrowed those ingredients on the list. She seemed to have the various strains of Draught of the Living Dead there, let's see if she would get it combined with the Beazors in the right dosages with venom and few other bits and pieces though.

And she had missed that Arthur Weasley had been a survivor of his potion antidote. He wondered if she would go find the Healers on duty and ask about that night and where the antidote would come from. It would point back to those journals. It was all there. She would finish her search soon and then bugger off and leave his soul alone.

That was to be that.

But then, she also was showing signs of cold feet for her impending marriage. She wanted a bit of fun before it went all downhill with that ginger menace. He couldn't say he blamed her. The only thing that seemed to excite that boy was having a broomstick between his legs and that was saying something. He never seemed to be into Lavender seriously. It all seemed to be a desperate act to attract attention—and Merlin knows that boy lacked attention in a family as large as his. There was no time to lavish it on him. Evidence pointed in the very fact that that boy leeched himself as a sidekick on the Golden Boy. It was only time before he moved in on the brains of the operation.

If only she saw it. Severus wondered if he could make her see it. And then he wondered if he should just show himself to her, call off his debt and then make her swear to never tell a soul and then bugger off.

As tempting as that was, he knew he would stay hidden for a while longer and watch over the girl. The time would come when she would need him. She would know soon enough he wasn't dead.

Severus Apparated back to Spinner's End, he had nothing to brew as he had a whole box of pre-made contraceptives. He was a black market potioneer after all, working under a Malfoy. What would you expect? Contraception for prostitutes, extra-marital and pre-marital affairs was very profitable. And Hermione was getting the best in all of Great Britain from the deadest brewer there was, free of charge.

He hoped the man she would use it for was worth it.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews and readings. Also big thanks to beta ellise johnston~

Just settled down at Uni again from the Holidays so pardon the waiting periods. Now, back to classes and work, I will also be working running crew for some theatre productions, perhaps even casted in one...will have to wait and see how that all goes from next week on though. Well, that's enough about me.

What will the future hold for our characters now?

TBC...


	7. Discoveries

Chapter 7

Earlier in the day Hermione had visited Arthur Weasley who told her that Severus Snape had frequently visited him in the hospital until he found an antidote that worked. The Healers would check him and make notes for the Potion's Master who would then return later to check for himself.

So, Hermione had talked to the Healers about getting into the records for the potion. The Healers brought back the records, apologizing because said Potion's Master had already cleared them empty for 'patent' needs. They were supposed to be returned, but never were.

_Typical_, Hermione thought. Her better judgment told her that the sneaky bat had kept them for himself and altered the potion. Well, she had it in her journals right now, but had to set off later on to find the right one. She had other things to pursue at the moment.

Hermione had taken the contraceptive potion and was now lying underneath a man who was asking her if she was alright. She was sobbing, not because it hurt, but because the wizard she had chosen made her think of _him_. Not Ron, but the other man who was currently consuming all her spare thinking time.

Hermione stopped her sobbing and started laughing then. The man leaned on his elbows to look down into her face. Hermione pulled his head down to her mouth and asked him, "What are Jubberknoll feathers used in?"

"What?"

"Tell me--do you know?"

"That's a stupid thing to ask at a time like this," he grunted.

"Memory and Truth Serum," she muttered. "Get off me. Off! This isn't right," Hermione nudged under the man and rolled off the bed. She scrambled over to a chair where her clothes were neatly folded. The man turned to her and just stared for a moment as she dressed before asking:

"Even though we didn't finish, you're paying me in full, right?"

Hermione snorted. "Sure." She withdrew a pouch from her pocket and left it on the side table next to the door on the way out. She let the door slam.

How had she been so stupid, she wondered as she pulled her hood tightly over her face. She had gone in knowing and expecting nothing more than pleasure, but she still felt hollow. There was no pleasure in the act, and certainly nothing that left her wanting more. She felt the need to connect, to bond, to feel that the other person with her could unite with her mentally as well as physically. She wanted ultimate unison, and she felt that Ronald Weasley wouldn't be able to provide that connection either.

At least she had taken the contraceptive and could thank whoever that potioneer was who had brewed it. What was his name? Tilden? Toben? Something like that. She would need to look him up later and see if she could buy the formula so she could use it for later. Just in case. She had the feeling that Ron wasn't one for them and she bit her lip in thinking.

Once back in her flat she stood in her shower and let the water wash over her face. She remained like that until she lost track of time.

Someone was pounding on the door and Hermione leapt at the noise, she slipped on the shower floor as she tried to scramble out of the door from the floor and ended up smacking her thigh on the sink and swore loud enough that the banging stopped.

She was soaking wet and dripping. Hermione hadn't realized that she had dozed off in the shower, sitting on the floor. Wrapped in a white, fluffy robe, and armed with her wand she yanked her door open ready to blast the sorry sod that was bothering her at this hour.

That is, if she knew what the time was…she wondered.

And she was also wondering why Ron was standing outside her door with a goofy grin on his face.

"Hermione! Finally! Blimey, you take forever answering your door, you know that?"

"Yes, well, it's my door and I decide when to open it."

"Yeah, suppose that make sense and all. Hey, you're all wet; just get out of the shower or something?"

"What did you come over for, Ron?" She tried to run her fingers through her hair but ended up pulling at a knot.

"Oh, right!" He bounced on his heels, clasping his hands. "Let's go to the Ministry right now and get married. A small civil affair, nothing big at all—like you talked about. That way the papers won't be there and everything will be quiet like. Simple!" Ron grinned.

Hermione gaped like a fish for a moment, just staring at Ron. _Now?_ _As in: RIGHT NOW? _Ron was going on talking but Hermione couldn't hear him. Her mind was whirling. She had kept putting it off, and now she was sure she couldn't put it off anymore. She was out of excuses.

"Ok." She whispered.

A few hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were walking out of the Atrium of the Ministry. But Hermione made sure that legally, she was now Mrs. Granger.

But she would settle still on Ms. Granger should anyone care to use it anymore.

* * *

The internship was months over and Hermione hadn't found any job she was willing to work full time for now. It's not like she hadn't been looking; she wanted out of the house as Ron was more than willing to put her body to work.

He still had no idea why her stomach wasn't rounding out nicely now with little feet kicking the inside of it. Hermione's trips to St. Mungo's for legal contraceptives were the reason for that.

She was heading into Diagon Alley after such a visit to the hospital when she bumped into a familiar looking witch with a crowd around her: Professor Sybill Trelawney.

She was sitting in front of a small table in her flamboyant clothing and jewelry and shawl with her hair in a loose bun. Her voice was wafting over the people in its eerie and quiet manner, a manner which was drawing the crowd in. Hermione pushed her way forward in skepticism. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her as to why Professor Trelawney was attracting a crowd.

As Hermione made her way forward Trelawney had finished giving the future in her tarot cards to some wizard who had begun to run away crying. Trelawney was tutting and looking around at the crowd now in her large bug like gaze behind her frames. "Beware, the future should not be trifled with—the cards never lie, but the course you are on can be changed--oh!" Her eyes fell on Hermione.

"Ms. Granger! I never would have thought you would come to see my trade in person, of all people," she turned her nose upwards and sniffed sharply. Then, she quickly opened her eyes and narrowed them at Hermione. "Would you care for a reading, to see what the cards hold for you?"

Hermione smirked, "Go on then, all in good fun; how much?"

"For you, nothing. As a war hero, and past student of mine, it'll be a pleasure," she clucked her tongue. "It's about time we were civil to each other. Well then, come closer."

Trelawney shuffled her tarot cards with her nimble hands. "Separate."

Hermione cut the deck and watched the witch reshuffle. "I will give you a three card spread. The past, present and future. Nothing fancy."

Trelawney pulled out the first card. The past. "Ten of wands. We know the past was burdensome," she tapped the card as the crowd pulled in even closer around the two. "Stress and enemies were near. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and your obvious affiliation with the trio was a primary burden on you. Too much concentration on school…"

"Yes, well, that doesn't take a genius to figure that one out." Hermione muttered.

Trelawney laid that card down and pulled out the one for the present. The King of Swords. The picture depicted a dark haired man on a throne, with a very large sword and crown. He was wearing a cape of solid black and a gown of silver. Everything was dark in the picture from shadows casted.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked about this card which was supposedly portraying her future.

"There's a mature man, in a position of trust and authority in your life. He is very intelligent, logical. He does not like overt displays of emotion and requires lots of mental stimulation. Reversely, this person could be suspicious, into playing mind games with people. A double dealer, a person who plays two parts…" she was continuing but Hermione was trying to think of who this person was. It was definitely _not_ Ron.

Someone smart, mind games, suspicious…_double deale_r? She could only think of Lucius Malfoy, but he was no longer dark, and_ very_ into emotions.

_Who? In her present life? _

Hermione could only conclude that Trelawney was still the crack pot she believed her to be. Hermione rose to leave.

"Wait! I have to give you your future card!" She said quickly as Hermione had turned to leave now. Trelawney had turned it and laid it down. The ten of cups.

The future card.

* * *

Hermione stormed off down Diagon Alley and stopped to huff out loud in front of a bunch of cauldrons, not realizing where she was. Looking up, she saw she had stopped in front of an Apothecary.

Then, the idea hit her.

She knew what she could do for her career. She had access to a potion's lab all on her own, undisturbed, with ingredients bountiful. She would just have to restock.

Hermione Granger: Potion's Extraordinaire.

Ron wouldn't be in the way to bother her, and she wouldn't have to tell him where she was. She no longer had her flat, so Spinner's End could be her home away from home.

It was time to return to Spinner's End and tidy up for her new career move.

She told herself as she went into a nearby store to gather cleaning supplies that she would pursue learning more about potions to be tested at master's level. That way she could charge more for her brews at a Mistress level. If only she could find someone to study under...

Professor Slughorn was a bit too creepy for her.

If only Professor Snape was still around. She would have to find that antidote and if she did, would she be able to find him?

* * *

Severus Snape was sitting in his living room reading the _Daily Prophet_ when his wards were starting to tingle. He leapt to his feet, snatched his wand off of the coffee table and took the few steps needed to his drawn curtains to look out and see what magical being was in the area.

He saw that the disturbance was caused by no other than that annoying girl. She was standing in the street with a few small parcels and her coat looked slightly bulging in the pockets. Severus snapped the curtain back to its place and was lowering himself into his chair when he bolted back up and realized that he needed to hide again.

He went back to the window and peeped out, seeing that she was making her way up to his dilapidated gate. Severus hurried then; making sure his existence in the room was undetected. The girl was too close now for him to apparate without her knowing and possibly following or something dreadful, he thought. He ran to his staircase and started climbing it three stairs at a time when he heard the front door click open with the turning of a key. Severus muffled his body. He could hear her humming some out-of-tune piece still in his living room.

He cleared his potions lab with a grimace. He had been brewing some potions that had taken days and were rather costly. But, they were all cleared away. He shrunk and tucked his notebook into his trouser pocket and turned off his burners. He tried to see how it was when she had last seen the room but couldn't remember. He had changed a few things like the table arrangements, and the order of the potion ingredients and such. She had taken forever in returning he had thought that she wasn't coming back. He had perversely thought that she had been so disgusted by the place that she wouldn't return.

But she was now here. She had come back. After all this time she had come back. Severus' heart was beating fast. It had been months that he had had any sightings of the chit after his last encounter and had forgotten his reactions to her.

Severus disillusioned himself and was about to go downstairs to see what she was about to when he heard her climbing the stairs. He backed up away from the door and crossed to the far corner in the room.

Hermione Granger was in his potion's lab now. He narrowed his eyes and watched her movements.

She had taken out of her pockets some smaller parcels and enlarged them. She took some items out of their wrappings and moved to his cupboards to stow them away.

"Hmm. Not quite the way I remember it in here, guess I'd forgotten what it was like," Severus heard her say as she turned to another cupboard and placed whatever it was inside of it. Severus, being the nosy bat of the dungeons he was accustomed to being, crossed over to where she was. He stepped ever so slowly and carefully, watching her bite her lip as she unwrapped something else and went to put it away.

Severus saw then that what she had done was purchase additional ingredients, all of which so far were for that antidote. He leaned on the other side of the table with folded arms and watched as she continued. He noticed that she had also purchased other ingredients for potions he had no clue what she was going to brew them for. Perhaps she just liked to collect ingredients, he smirked. Just like Slughorn, all collecting and no brewing.

It was then that she paused, and slowly raised her eyes to where he was hiding. Had he made a noise? He was sure he hadn't; he held his breath, carefully moving his hand to his pocket to strike first. She seemed to be staring at him, no through him. She couldn't sense he was here, could she?

She moved around the table and stepped closer and closer to him. He could feel her aura, smell her perfume. He was becoming lightheaded from her.

She reached where he had been standing and then he turned to see what she was staring at. On the wall, completely forgotten by him--how could he had forgotten he had put it there—was the paper clipping of the announcements of Order of Merlin First Class awardees. Severus had used his pen to circle his name and tacked it onto his wall. He had not received the award of course, but knowing it was there, somewhere, with his name on it, had placed a small spot of sunshine on his heart.

He looked over at Hermione and saw her mind ticking hard. She had placed a hand over her mouth and a tear had splashed onto her cheek. She turned away and finished putting up the ingredients.

He stared at her, sure that she would have become suspicious and ran to the authorities on that paper's being. Obviously that was evidence enough. Wasn't it?

Hermione coolly left the room, with Severus in tow, and went into his bedroom. She went to his bed and placed some parcels on it. She then opened his closet and started to remove his clothes from their hangers, folding them, and placing them on the floor.

Severus was starting to boil. _How dare she cast him out of his own room?_ When all his clothes were in a pile on the floor, with his Death Eater mask and robe topping the pile off, Hermione removed her wand and with a satisfied look on her face, started the spell, "EN—"

But a louder, deeper, and more enraged spell caster had had his wand ready and caught Mrs. Granger in the middle of the spell.

Severus Snape had casted Petrificus Totalus on Hermione Granger and watched as she stiffened like a board and almost fell to the ground face first. Severus was decent enough to hover her the rest of the way down, then canceled his disillusionment spell. He stood above Hermione, whose eyes had become large--but he couldn't see any surprise in them.

"Good afternoon Ms. Granger. As pleasant as your company has been recently, I believe I have been fairly patient letting you totter around my home, without any rules and such, even in my own lab, but, taking it into your mind that my clothing, my own style and life, was alright to set into a ball of flames was going a bit too far. Yes?" Severus sighed and moved his clothes wordlessly back into his wardrobe.

"Now, if you will be a good little girl, I will remove the spell and we have a discussion about you buggering off to whatever it is you do and live at, and letting me live alone, undisturbed. Remember Ms. Granger—keep you big mouth shut until I ask you to speak."

Hermione just stared at him, neither blinking or moving her eyes, so Severus let her go. She jumped up, about to grab her wand when Severus, still pointing his at her, made her pause her hand just over it, they started to circle each other, like predators, wordlessly for a moment, sizing each other up. Severus sneered and then asked.

"What pray tell, were you going to do with my clothes?"

That caught Hermione off guard, obviously not the question she was expecting.

"One, I was going to make room for my own. Two, I was seeing if you were watching me."

"And how did you conclude I was really alive if you had yet to make a successful antidote?"

"That Order of Merlin paper in the lab. I didn't put it there, no one else comes here, and it sure as hell wasn't out prior to your great escape."

"What are you doing here, Ms. Granger?" Severus barely started lowering his wand.

"I applied and was granted permission to start my own potioneer business. This is now my workshop, my potions laboratory."

"What have you done, you foolish girl! Listing this down legally---inspections—"

"No, the Ministry doesn't require premises to be listed and Mr. Malfoy is now my business associate and I will be his supplier and—" Hermione was ticking off her fingers as she spoke.

"Malfoy? For the love of Merlin!" Severus threw up his hands and started laughing. _Malfoy? What was that devil playing at? _

"That man has been of great help and dispite his shortcomings these past years—"

"That wizard is the devil incarnate! You don't know him like I know him! Every Malfoy back to the witch hunts has been dark! Look at me—don't meddle with him—"

"You aren't now are you? So when I'm done—"

"Granger! Listen! Shut your mouth and listen to me! I am that potioneer who provided you with the contraceptive potions—and I'll be damned but almost my antidotes as well so that you could 'discover if I found a way to cheat death'" he mocked.

"You—I thought you looked familiar that day!"

"Yes, well, here I am," Severus stepped back from her and turned around to rub his temples. Hermione went silent for a moment to study the Professor that had haunted her nonstop ever since she had left him on the floor covered in blood. He was healthier, less drawn, and still as powerful, perhaps even more so without his sleep depraved nerves and twitching body from torture.

"I should report you," Hermione said behind him softly.

"So why aren't you running down the stairs doing just that?" He asked over his should without looking.

"Because…I want to say to you how sorry I am for leaving you there. Really, I am sorry. I went back but you were gone. No one could find you…"

"Malfoy knew. He knew the whole time what I did as I used his books to prepare for something just in case. He had lost faith in the cause after Azkaban and Draco's task; so he let me. We had an Unbreakable vow of our own. Well, now you know," he turned around. "What are you going to do with this tidbit of knowledge you possess? Run to your fiancé or Potter the boy-Wonder? The Ministry?" He sneered.

"I am married and no, I do not need to tattle tale to whomever about anything I discover or whatever happens to me." Severus whirled about on his heel at that announcement, slightly slack jawed and stunned. _Married? When did that happen? Not like he cared or anything, just he was surprised. Yes, surprised._

"So then what do you plan on doing with me Mrs. Weasley?" Severus cocked his head and crossed his arms, and with narrowed eyes studied the woman before him as he tapped his wand on his bicep waiting for a reply.

Hermione bit her lower lip, her teeth sinking in slightly. She couldn't help but think of the many things she would do with the supposed long dead man before her who practically no one missed in the world. Many of those possibilities that flashed in her mind made her make sure that she avoided eye contact and looked down as she felt a flush creep up from her chest to her cheeks. She wouldn't have him seeing imaginary Snape and Granger in compromising positions.

"My name is Mrs. Granger, Ms. Granger or simply Hermione. Mrs. Weasley is the one with a whole quidditch field of players as sons. I would offer to let you live here, free of charge and threat of discovery in return for you training me for my Master's certification. Also, as we are to be business rivals, I offer you the opportunity to combine your business with mine, and we work together. Deal?" Hermione stepped forward and offered a handshake to which Severus laughed.

"This is my home, _Ms. Granger_. To order me around in it with threats and then demand I train you, or cut my business in half is ridiculus. Go bugger off back to your comfortable life and just try to send wind of me. No one will believe you. Should anyone and I get sense of it, trust me, an Avada will find you faster than you can turn around and say 'boo'," he uttered, barely above a whisper. As he did so, his hot breath brushed Hermione's ear.

Hermione spun around surprised, she hadn't thought she closed her eyes but—_how did he just end up behind her?_ She hadn't seen him move or anything. _How?_

Severus backed away and left her in the room alone. She heard him going down the staircase and Hermione chased after him. He moved rather fast as she found him putting the kettle on.

"Tell me then, how did you do it?" Hermione stood across from him in the kitchen.

"Do what, girl? For someone who prides themselves on intelligence, you aren't very clear on your meanings."

"Escape the Shrieking Shack."

"Very well," Severus wiped his hands on his pants as the kettle was on and nothing else was to be done other than get biscuits out of the cupboard and set them on the table, however, Severus would be damned before he let her touch any of his caramel McVities digestives. "You provided me with my antidote, which was very necessary for me to live as I had underestimated how fast paralysis would set when that thing bit into my jugular. I had anticipated a slower reaction, but considering that I was already pulsing with adrenaline, trying to save Potter and get the hell out of that room—I just knew the Dark Lord was going to do something—it easily passed through me, faster than with Weasley. He was surprised, I was already worked up. Once everyone was gone, with a little bit of the antidote starting to work, I was able to portkey out. I would have Spliced myself otherwise."

"Where did you go to heal?" Hermione was wide eyed, latching on to everything he said. She had moved to sit in one of his two kitchen chairs so Severus took the other.

"Here, I ended up in the garden there, and made my way to the sitting area, and worked the best I could every half hour going through more doses. I must have been worse than Arthur, but when I was slowed the bleeding I went upstairs and rested. An alarm woke me for the replenishing potions and another for the antidote, and another at night for Dreamless Draughts. I was a very doped up wizard, riding on cloud nine. Never felt more bliss than then."

"That's hard to imagine," Hermione muttered as she rose to take the kettle off of the stove before it whistled.

"I'll make the tea, you sit." Hermione obeyed and watched as he moved briskly about just like in class, straining the tea leaves and adding enough water, adding carnation milk and doing a few stirs more. He levitated the cups to the table and carried a ceramic sugar jar over.

"Ron never makes tea for me," she stated as she added the sugar cubes.

"That's not much of a stretch for the imagination," Severus waited for the sugar tongs as Hermione finished adding sugar. "Now then. What are you planning on doing after you leave here then?"

"Well, I'm not leaving for a few days—"

"What?" Severus chocked on a sip.

"I've brought some clothing that will be here permanently. Since this will be the home of my business, I've decided that I've rights to stay overnight or longer to brew when required and such."

"Where do you plan on sleeping?" Severus was opposed to anyone sleeping on his coach and the bed was off limits.

"Your bed. You can cop it out on the sofa."

The impertinence of the young woman was making Severus question whether or not it was worth pretending he had any decency left in him. "Most definitely not," he almost roared.

"I'm just joking. I got top marks in transfiguration. You don't have to even know I'm here really. I'll sleep in the lab on a cot or something…"

"It'll be a fair sight better than that ridiculous backpacking trip your trio spent in the woods that fateful year."

"Hmm," was Hermione's response as she drained her cup.

Severus collected the cups and said, "Should I decide that I feel in the mood for a housemaid--an assistant of the sort-- I require that any competitors in my field be eliminated in such a manner as to terminate their contracts with my patrons and cease production in any mediocre potions they make should they accidently kill someone or something in the consuming of said monstrosity. Therefore, an assistant would warrant proper training, no manner the level of skill or excellence they might have achieved in school, and at the end, their level of production should be by far above the Master's standard or else they will not be successful in joint venture with me and my potioneering. I have no doubts you will not fail to be compentent, I just doubt my nerves will be able to handle your overbearing need for perfectionism, but, I suppose, I have been growing bored in my isolation…"

Hermione could barely believe her ears. Was Professor Snape offering to train her and to become his partner at the end of her training as long as she stop (do you mean start or stop?) her own company? Any sane person would run in the opposite direction at the thought of working with this man, but Hermione was thinking that any intelligent person would do as he said and be fortunate enough to train under the most brilliant wizard of the century after Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione tried to hide her smile as Severus was rinsing out the plates and placed a hand over her lips. She didn't see that Severus was watching her reflection with his own twitching lips in the pane of glass overlooking the garden.

* * *

A/N: Thank you Ellise for beta-ing again. The tarot cards are very real in fact--I own a deck myself. They usually can be purchased in a book store, perhaps like Barens and Nobles, Borders or Hasting in the U.S. My deck was purchased in Woolworths years ago in the UK, but sadly it's no longer around there. Perhaps some other type of mysic shop, or coffee, pagan place might carry them. They can be found also online.

Well, I hope this was an enjoyable chapter. My classes I'm taking this semester so far are more time consuming than I had imagined so I'll be putting out chapters when I can. Thank you, your reviews and inputs are most enjoyable and it's amazing how many people are tracking this story so far~

In the mean time, my other story has just had a chapter update as well. Enjoy!


	8. A place of one's own

Chapter 8

Hermione did leave later that day. Severus had persuaded her that he needed space for a few days to adjust to setting up quarters for her and moving things around in the house. He also had her make an unbreakable vow with him stating that she would never tell anyone about him, where she went, and never turn him in. Paranoid, a bit; but he believed that as long as he was "dead" he was a good guy, but as soon as his beaky nose broke into the light of public all the torrid Death Eater theories would start up again. He wasn't a Malfoy for a very good reason.

Though he was making a bit more money now then he had as a professor, he missed socializing on a mediocre level. At least a conversation once a week to fuel his intellectual needs was guaranteed from Mrs. Weasley "or whatever she went by now," he reasoned. He wasn't going to argue too much about it. She was very much equal to his caliber in everything and more; she had youth and vitality, the young ignorance that would propel her to try things he wouldn't anymore and as such she would see the good in the world for every evil he saw. As much as they were alike they were opposite. He valued that.

Severus had decided that Hermione would have a bedroom, though not his. It had been his since he was a child but he had expanded it as he had aged for practical reasons, and changed the décor. His parent's room was now the lab. It would take too much an effort to use magic to expand and make additions like the Malfoy's and Weasley's home, and then a permit was required. Severus Snape was not one to walk to the Ministry and ask for such things when an empty home was right next door.

Early in the morning, Severus had jumped the border wall separating his garden from theirs in the back and used his wand to check for life. It was dilapidated in every sense of the word and the only sign of life in any way was the rats which were rummaging around here and there. He hated rats and any which crossed his path were promptly blasted as if they were Pettigrew. When he found out that it was that rat instead of Black he felt even more disgusted, it would have seemed more appropriate for Black, always the noble stead of Potter's—but that two faced—good for nothing—always licking the Dark Lord's boots. It made sense now.

But he still hated Black even if he was no longer part of the living.

Snape crept through the backdoor and certain that no being, Muggle or Magical, was about, turned on the lights and surveyed the place. It was practically the same as his, minus the dust and dirt covering the floor and some water damage about. He made his way up the dropping covered staircase and graffitied walls to the second level and paused as he looked up and saw the attic entry. He pulled the stair down climbed up it. The attic went straight through to his, running over to his entryway. It would be perfect for Hermione—providing that she could come and go through that instead of the front door to his place once she apparated in this back garden. She could possess this half of the building, it wasn't like anyone was going to move in anytime soon in this side of town. Anyways, she would be a squatter and had protection in the Muggle world, if she lived as a Muggle. It wasn't like she would have any oddities running about like Purebloods would. She and Snape had standards they lived on when among their other kind.

He came back down and checked the rooms and such. It looked remarkably similar to when his parents were still alive and how his place looked in size and proportions. He was satisfied that Hermione would be comfortable here once it was cleaned and made homey. He would set about doing it up for her, since he had nothing else to do. All his brewing was done last night when Hermione had left him. He had lots to think about, many of which prevented him from getting any sleep. First he would go back to his side and unlock the attic and adjust it so that the pathway would be as seamless and easy to use as possible.

Hermione went home in a merry mood that Ron noticed immediately. He too seemed to be in good spirits when he came home from the Ministry. That night in bed Ron was very gentle and caring, even accommodating, which surprised Hermione, but her mind wasn't with Ron at all even though her body was. She was off thinking about the Potion's Master and the training she would receive from him leading to a Mistress Level and her being able to start her own business. But for now she was to help him. How exciting. They had talked about payment for such an education but the former professor had stated that such an education should never cost anything from the one learning but their mind, dedication and hard work in return. Any request he would make of her should go unquestioned and together they would brew enough to cover her tuition and that would suffice enough. Part of the deal was also that Hermione would do the shopping and collect ingredients freshly as Snape had to rely on mail-ordering and because of that lost out on choice ingredients and ended up wasting so much which didn't match what he wanted or was up to his caliber.

He trusted Hermione to pick well, if not she would soon learn too, as his temper would teach her.

Hermione and Ron were lying in bed after she had cooked him dinner. She had believed that she was going to spend the night at Spinner's End, but Snape had told her he would owl her within the next few days after he had made a place for her. He had discussed with her how it had been quite a while since he had had anyone ever spend the night with him. He hadn't been very clear on the subject, but judging from the way he flushed slightly at his word phrasing and rose to rinse out the cups, it wasn't much stretch of the imagination to guess what he had alluded to.

She wished Ron would be that celibate, if anything, at least variant, or exciting, not so…so routine, so predictable. He was always ready to go, and once he was done, he was done. He wasn't accommodating when it came to her, and thus, Hermione had come to believe that sexual intercourse was overrated, boring, and that there was nothing in it for a witch at all. She wanted to refuse Ron many nights, but then he would go on about how it was unfair, and it was his place as husband to, or else he would go find someone else. This made her feel bad, and she would give in. It never took very long. And she would then rise, take a shower, clean the sheets while Ron slept, and then lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

This was not how she imagined marrying her friend would have turned out. Ron was also asking more often when she planned on getting pregnant and staying home more. The questions were increasing in frequency and Hermione used the same answers, and they were not as effective anymore.

Tomorrow, Mrs. Molly Weasley would be visiting. Just what Hermione was looking forward to. Her parents weren't against her marriage to Ron, and they encouraged her to put off of having children. She was planning on visiting her mother next month for a bit. Her mother was the only person she actually confided her theories about Professor Snape and was actually not rebuked by. They supported her in every way.

"Ron," Hermione turned to her side and looked at him. He was not asleep, but reading some Quidditch magazine.

He responded with an "Hmmm."

"Some nights I won't be coming back home, ok?"

"Hmmm."

"Did you hear me?"

"Ah hmmm."

"Ok. That was easier than I thought. Do you want to know why?"

"Why what," he turned a page.

"Why I won't be coming home."

"Why?" She could tell he wasn't paying her any mind, but she carried on like he was, for the sake of her sanity.

"Because Ron, I've taken a new job, business actually. I've got a new partner and we may be brewing some things that require lots of lab work, and such and that way I'm at work and won't muddle anything up. It's more efficient, cost effective, and responsible. Plus, with the training I'll be receiving, I will be able to eventually Master and get my own business one day."

"Hmmm."

Hermione sighed, turned over and tried to go to sleep. She wasn't able to until about an hour later when he put the light out and tossed an arm about her to snuggle. Hermione never felt more like a mere body warmer in a stranger's bed until she thought of it that night. Her dreams were full of reliving her schooling--potion and Defense against the Dark Arts classes with the Professor.

Hermione never felt more terrified and exhilarated of her findings in her life and almost dreaded when he would send her an owl.

It just so happened that the owl came during Mrs. Weasley's visit. Molly had Flooed over, and as much as Hermione had loved her, she coldn't help but shudder when the subject of making grandbabies came up.

"So Hermione, when are you going to add to the family? Ginny and Harry already have given me one, and she is younger than you! I was expecting Ron to get at it, "_so I'm a factory now?_" Hermione thought, "before Harry, but Ginny's now working on a second, and with the others—" that's about when Hermione tuned out. She went to put the kettle on. She was in desperate need of some tea or else she would strangle the woman.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not on any contraceptives are you?" Hermione paused, unsure of how to answer.

"No," she said with her back to Molly. But her pause must have been to long an answer in itself, as Molly then stated.

"Does Ron know?"

"There's nothing to know; I'm not on any."

"Turn around Hermione," Molly said with her wand drawn. Hermione was a bit unnerved; she wouldn't dare to try anything with Hermione's wand in her pocket.

"What are you doing, Molly?" Hermione cautiously asked.

"I've had my fair share of children, dear. I know how to spot contraceptives when I sense them! Accio Contras!" She held her hand open, waiting, and Hermione folded her arms, livid.

"Mrs. Weasley, did Ron ask you to do this?" Nothing had flown into her hand yet, but Molly stood expectantly. "I must ask you to leave this instant. First, you insult me, my family, and my dignity—"

"There's something strange going on! Ronald has told me things. He has told me that you go out for weird hours at a time—"

"I don't want to be kept home and I refuse to be told when I can go and do as I please!"

"You should be home, keeping house and making Ron's life easier!"

"Easier? He doesn't do anything at the Ministry. All the Death Eaters are gone now and there's only the common criminal. If he wanted a perfect wife, he should have saddled up with Lavender Brown instead of kept knocking on my door!"

"It's because of convenience, you were there and familiar and a friend!"

"You should have taught him to shop around then! Please leave now Mrs. Weasley—there's not going to be anything that's going to fall into your hand while I'm around."

"Hermione! I can't believe you would speak to me this way—"

"Then you don't know the half of it. I am not going to be walked all over and used as a screw toy like you were for Arthur and only show my colors when I need to. I wear my colors on my sleeve, Molly and if you don't like it, then go!"

"Where are they? You must have hid them!"

"There are none!" Hermione shouted as Molly took off into the foray to look upstairs, "Don't you dare!"

As Hermione was about to petrify her, a loud tapping at her kitchen window caused her to glance back and see a common post owl. Hermione debated for a second ignoring it, but ran to fling the window open and then darted off without grapping the letter. The owl would drop it off and take off out the window if it was prepaid or just wait if it wasn't. At least it wasn't outside.

Hermione could her Molly in the bathroom scurrying about; casting location spells here and there. "Molly! If you don't stop now, I swear I'll do something you'll regret!"

Molly stopped then, drew herself up tall and looked at Hermione. She really looked at her then, and said, woman to woman, "I know you are fertile, I casted the spell myself to see if you ovulated and I know you do. I know Ron hasn't consented to contraceptives, and if in our world, are taking them, without his permission then you are breaking the law. Do you think I wanted to have so many children? Do you? I wanted a few, but Arthur didn't want me to take the stuff and he only let me once money started to get tight. I love him, I love my family, but it's his decision in this world that matters. We are living in a patriarchal society Hermione, and I won't hesitate to have you put in Azkaban when I would have gone for the same thing, but instead I suffered for honesty. You are a crafty, deceiving witch and I've heard the stories of your doings in Hogwarts, cute as they were, they showed the deviousness of that mind at an early age. My son will have his children if he wants them, and you will stay home if he wants you to be here. He's going to take you to St. Mungo's to get you examined soon, mark my words, and if you are fine, they'll get you pregnant there. If there's any trace of any potion in your system, the Aurors will take you right there away for a bit and you'll be on the cover of _The Daily Prophet_. Don't believe me? You will, but I can tell from your face that hit a nerve, eh?"

As Hermione was aiming her wand at Molly, she let Molly pass and followed her downstairs in silence. Before Molly took a handful of Floo powder from the mantle, Hermione coolly said to her, "Don't bother ever coming back in my house while I'm here. I'm sealing off your entrance."

Molly left then.

Hermione was fuming and grabbed a mug and smashed it on the wall, to which the owl, who had patiently been waiting on the faucet over the sink cried out in alarm.

Hermione had forgotten about him and she apologized to it. It didn't have a band around its leg showing it was from the post office and she didn't recognize the creature, so she removed the letter, waiting for it to leave, but it stayed. Hermione would have offered it money but it had no purse, and it refused an owl treat. It was waiting. She let out a pent up breath.

Hermione then opened the letter and it was written in a cramped scrawl she had almost forgotten about if it wasn't for those journals she had committed to memory.

_Granger, _

_I have been rather busy these past hours. I have procured you quarters, and request your presence tomorrow, promptly at 9:00am to begin your training. I have also ventured out to purchase an owl, his name is Caveat. It would work out cheaper and less dangerous than running to the post office every time I need to contact you. Although he is a rather plain fellow, he is unremarkable and quiet. You will do well to learn from him. Send a reply, do not address. Caveat needs to familiarize himself with the travel and with the direction. It would be a miracle if he found his way there without direction. He seems to be a clever fellow, better than most dunderheads I ever had. _

_Do not forget to come ready to work_

"Caveat?" Hermione tested the name and the owl hooted back, ruffling his feathers as if proud of his name. "Tell me, did Snape name you that?"

Again, a little hoot, "That man is so mellow-dramatic. I'm sorry for you. But, I suppose, it is my fault. Oh, well. I'll be seeing a lot of you, no doubt. Caveat, it'll grow on me. A bit suiting, I suppose. Well, let's write that reply.

Hermione wrote that she'll be there tomorrow morning, and that Caveat seemed a real dear, and he is pleasant. She didn't know what else to write, but she did write that she noticed he put "better than most dunderheads I ever had" and asked she fell into that category just for a tease. She needed something to take her mind off of Molly.

As she watched Caveat fly away, she suddenly wanted to call it back, to ask Professor Snape if there was a way to purge contraceptive potions out of her body. She had been keeping them at her parent's house; every month she went over to visit she took one. But, they would be in her system right now if they went later. Hermione wanted to ask if what Molly said was true, but couldn't go about asking people, that would show guilt. And the Wizarding world didn't have a public library system.

She thought of going over to Malfoy's to see if he or Narcissca would know something about it, as they just had Draco only. But then, Lucious seemed the type to let his wife do what she wanted as long as she kept her figure. And then, with their past, she supposed pro-creating wasn't on the top of their list as long as they had an heir.

Hermione just didn't want a child yet. This was so unfair. If only…if…was it possible to get a divorce? Hermione bit her lip. She hadn't been married long, and realized that it was a mistake. Surely she could get divorced. Her parents would understand if no one else did.

That's it. Hermione decided that if Ron pushed the issue any farther or wanted to take her to St. Mungo's she would get divorced. It was as simple as that.

Hermione was a full-fledged feminist in this direction. No man was going to control her uterus when it was in her body. Ministry of Magic be damned with their silly laws. If they were even true.

Hermione would ask Snape all about this tomorrow.

Ron had returned home, looking a bit angry. Through his rantings Hermione made out that his mother had sent a Howler saying how uncontrollable his wife was. Hermione could only smirk to that, to which Ron would yell more about the whole matter. If only Ron knew how his mother had behaved.

Ron said he didn't want dinner that night; he was going out with some mates. Once he left, Hermione boxed up the meal. She knew someone who might be inclined to eat her dinner. It was spaghetti Bolognese. She wasn't going to just sit and wait for him to come home drunk and then wonder why he wouldn't come out of the bathroom and go to bed. Really, she didn't want some other woman's sloppy seconds. It seemed like no one said "no" to a war hero.

She also knew that due to Snape's parents' past, he might know the law about marriages. She just hoped that Eileen Prince was a stronger woman that she seemed.

Severus Snape was finally feeling the tingling around his nerves telling him he was close to exhausting his magic. He had literally spent all day blasting, yelling, and in general letting out so much pent up anger and frustrations from the years he was denied during the war. He had stupendously cleaned, dusted, and transfigured nearly all of Hermione's half of the building with his impressive, yet silly wand waving.

His form was perfect, his aim perfect, and the force behind his spell work was enough to make Dumbledore quiver as it was backed by pent up frustration. However, Snape had used so much magic in doing up the place, that he was now exhausted. He was still in her half, collapsed on a sofa doing deep breathing exercises, wiping his sweaty brow, when he felt another magical presence. He hadn't warded Hermione's place but his wards were stretching over a bit so he could tell when someone was near. He wasn't expecting Hermione yet, so with a weary heave to his feet in as much haste as he could muster, he went up the stairs and through the open attic. He had crept down his stairs when he heard a rather rapid knocking on his door. He paused halfway down the stairs and opened the door, ready to blast whoever entered with his last ounce of magic. Hermione entered, looking around and found a rather relieved Snape glaring at her. It was an odd combination for an expression.

"I didn't request your presence until tomorrow, Caveat—" Snape was cut off abruptly from Hermione suddenly bursting out into tears. He was dumbfounded now, not wanting her to be here till tomorrow to surprise her, but now she was in front of him crying. This was really trying his nerves. He could care less about crying women. He had seen enough of that growing up and as a Death Eater.

"Go sit down, I'll make some tea," He softly spoke, not wanting to upset her and have her blowing something up or letting his whereabouts known. He guided her to the kitchen as her sobs seemed to die down as he was running about preparing.  
"I brought you over some dinner," she finally managed to get out. "I needed that. It's been so long since I cried. You know, I never even cried after the war and during the funerals. I just didn't have it in me. I felt it wasn't natural with everyone else doing it, and I couldn't. I even though perhaps I was being selfish, unnatural, and cold. But I guess I had just been storing it up. Inside"

"Yes. Well" Severus had no idea where to go with this talk. He had done more than enough crying for two life times and then some. "What did you bring to eat?" He would try to ease into what brought her here on more safe groundings.

"Some spaghetti. Ron didn't want to eat it as he went out for the night with Harry and some work mates. I think he did that so we wouldn't argue. He isn't up to it like his mother," her tone on the last word was so stressed that Snape figured it was she who was behind something.

He stayed quiet waiting for Hermione to continue, but she didn't, so Snape just took the food and opened the Tupperware up and peered inside. It did look good, but he had already eaten. "Do you want to eat some?" he asked.

"No. I haven't an appetite anymore."

"Right. I'll keep this for lunch then," he put it in his empty fridge and made tea then in silence.

When he came back he was thinking of taking her next door to take her mind off of whatever, but then she started talking as soon as he sat down.

"Professor—"

"—Severus."

"Yes. I was wondering, seeing as you might know something about this, being more knowledgeable of the wizarding world than me—"

Severus really hated rambling, and almost snapped at her to spit it out. She was so typical of her schoolgirl self and vulnerable at the moment he was sorely tempted, but again bit back his tongue as he hadn't anyone to talk to for so long. It was almost pleasant, almost, but more annoying at the moment though with her leaky, red rimmed eyes.

"—can women go to Azkaban for taking contraceptives without their husbands knowing or approving?"

This took him by surprise. He felt almost slapped at the sudden turn that took. "You are married, what should it matter? This should be something you discuss with your husband."

"But, if I can go away for this, then I won't. I need to know first."

"I really don't know." He squirmed a bit.

"Are there potions to purge contraceptives out of the body?"

"Ms. Granger…I—yes—but they are dangerous—"

"Detectable?"

"That's bordering Dark magic—"

"Bordering, not actually then. Do you know how to brew any?"

"I had to for some of my old acquaintances after Revels, but—" before he had never thought of why they were needed. Whenever his superiors told him they needed some for the women, he just had brewed some, no questions asked. Seemed like an odd request to begin with, but it was left at that as he was just freshly out of school. Now, he wondered if the threat of Azkaban was somehow behind something.

"May I help you brew some for me, please? I think I might be making a trip to St. Mungo's, if anything Mrs. Weasley says has any truth to it—"

"Start from the beginning. You are married, taking contraceptives, which isn't illegal, and?"

"And Mrs. Weasley came to me asking why I wasn't knocked up with her grandbabies by now because Ron has been on both of our cases. They want children, I don't. He doesn't know I'm on contraceptives, and if he did, he would make me stop. I don't want children yet, I want to be able to work first, and prepare a life ready for children, we aren't ready yet."

"And Molly said that you could go to Azkaban?" That seemed harsh.

"She said if Ron took me to St. Mungo's and they found I had been taking anything without his consent, I could go. However, if nothing was found, there and then I wouldn't be allowed to leave until I was proven pregnant if it's the husband wish."

Severus sat back, turning in his head all he had heard. It was strange. The wizarding world had some strange laws, and it sounded like something not too obscure to be not real, but outdated. He really didn't want a pregnant Hermione working around the lab. Life was just getting more and more tricky.

"Isn't there some way to say I don't want a child? It's my body, my life!" Hermione growled. Severus looked at her; she was so unlike his mother, unbroken.

"In this society, you are legally your husband's property—"

"That's so patriarchal and wrong," she answered.

"Yes, but didn't you learn anything at all in Professor Binn's lessons? All the witches in history were unmarried old maids who left an impression on the world. Not all of them were maids, but many just had fun on the side. They didn't marry because of strange legalities they knew about from growing up in this world. You just were plopped in it, almost like me. I didn't know what I was until a few years from going to Hogwarts because my father considered my mother and I freaks, and she taught me how to hide my gift from my father. Her rights were over when she married my dad."

"Can a witch divorce her husband in this world then?" she was worried after remembering Snape's mother in that memory.

"It's rare, but I don't think impossible. It damages your reputation; makes getting a career nearly impossible, it's like out-casting yourself. The man is fine, but it's the woman you suffers the hardest. It's always the woman who does."

Hermione thought about this, and swallowed hard before she spoke again. "It's nothing new. If Voldemort," Snape cringed slightly, "…won, I probably would be dead. That would make two outcasts then. As for a job, well, you'd just have to put up with me. I'm not seeing a cell inside of Azkaban after seeing what Sirius, Bellatrix, Malfoy and the other breakouts looked like."

"It's not a pleasant place, certainly."

"Do you have anything you're doing tonight then?"

"Besides resting? Yes, sleeping. I'm nearly exhausted."

"Tell me what I need to do, like in the old days, and I'll be good to go. You can get rest or whatever."

"Letting you run about my lab before being officially my assistant sounds like trouble, Ms. Granger."

"The day I found you was asking for trouble."

"I knew you were trouble ever since you set me on fire." Snape snapped back, finally. He didn't mean it harshly, but Hermione suddenly went tight-lipped, looked him in the eyes, and then burst out laughing. Snape wanted to laugh too, but just rose smirking. He would laugh later.

"You are in an awfully good mood, Ms. Granger," a rather scratchy Severus came into his potions from a night of rest—not sleep—as he daren't doze off for more than fifteen minutes here or there, listening to Hermione tottering around his lab. He would hear a clink here, a stirring rod tap there, Hermione cursing under her breath as she forgot how vital it was to keep up the skill of potion making. She hadn't done it in so long now the practice of precision cutting and wand flicking for automatically stirring a cauldron was dusty.

"Am I? Am I?" Hermione turned around, feeling a bit neglected from Severus after he had disappeared. "I must look like shit, and my spine—my spine is so stiff from sitting on that—" She noticed Snape's face then.

Then her eyes fell to his rigid back and tightly knit shoulders. Now she understood why he was so uptight and ramrod built. She hadn't believed it was working around Voldemort making him so poised and proper. She had fleetingly thought it was being with Malfoy—but after considering all she would have to do to be like him and a night like that was nothing. A stiff back was nothing.

Hermione rubbed her face before speaking again. She saw that Snape definitely hadn't slept; probably worrying he wouldn't have a lab to come back into. He had left her alone that night to brush up on her techniques brewing basic O.W.L. level potions. "I'm sorry—"

Severus had cut her off. "If this little outburst is a reflection of your lack of gratitude, then perhaps you have realized what you've got yourself into ahead of the game. This is nothing, was nothing, to anything I had endure for my Masters. Perhaps you will do well to seek another to study under Ms. Granger…"

"No, no. It was just that I hadn't slept and—"

"--of which was your doing, you asking me to give you something to do—"

"--well yeah, after the type of day I had—"

"—from which now you can take into account such assessments of the self before entering the lab! Once you cross that threshold, all outside influences and worries must be unburdened and left at the door. Any slight mistake because you left your brain churning over some latest conquest can compromise us all! Pay attention Ms. Granger, to not only technique, but the self as well. A potion is as good as the brewer only."

"You're right." She simply said. Hermione slumped on the stool closest to her. She didn't cry, but she buried her face just breathing into her arm. Severus glanced over her once before crossing to the simmering cauldrons she had going. They were perfect, but he had heard over the course of the night her swearing, vanishing the brew, and starting fresh. He went over to the lab benches where cuttings were placed away, but she hadn't yet returned the vials and jars of ingredients. The mortar and pestle were in need of cleaning, green juices were left behind slightly with hints of a leaf pulverized on the round knob. Besides that, everything seemed alright. He was expecting worse, but then, this was Hermione Granger. He always had to dig deep to find some criticism, which is why he always attacked her more harshly when grading her essays as her practical were always so damn perfect.

He paused with his back to her. They both needed some rest before they attempted anything else. He had yet to show her the place he had set up. He turned smartly on his heel, staying where he was, "Ms. Granger?"

Hermione just moaned slightly, to show she was paying attention. He did not approve of that, and would let her know at another time. "Come, you are exhausted and in of rest," he walked past her, expecting her to follow. At the door jab he turned, and saw she was still sitting.

"That's what I am doing," she answered when he repeated his request. "I am not taking your place. If I need to rest, I can go on your sofa if I'm really tired, or even home."

"Don't be so insipid, Ms. Granger. Do as I say, come now, woman!" He almost growled. That caught her attention. She came. He was in the hallway, with the attic stair down and started up them.

"I don't really want to sound rude, but the attic? I don't need to be in the attic; it's a bit drafty and all…" she trailed off as when she got up there, there was nothing to sleep on and it's unwelcoming appearance was reinforced as Snape crossed over to the other side of the building to their attic entryway. He paused for her to come towards before he opened it, and went down.

Hermione followed, and was not sure what was going on then. When she came over to his place all the time, the building looked derelict, a danger zone in its own right, enter at your own risk. But as she followed Snape into room after room silently, and then down the staircase into the living room, and then the kitchen, she was starting to feel, as if this was hers. Everything looked so clean, so newly done. Severus was watching Hermione's expression the whole while, but said nothing as her awe on her strained and tired face, was illuminating it miraculously, as she took everything in. Her eyes didn't miss anything.

In the kitchen, he stopped the tour and faced Hermione. "Well?" He asked. He hadn't told her if it was hers yet, or anything.

"Well?" She echoed back not knowing what to say, for fear she was wrong. It was Snape she was talking to.

"What do you think of the place?"

"It's very nice…did you do it up?"

Snape started walking around the kitchen, his fingers dancing over the surface of the countertops as he felt Hermione's gaze on him.

"I did."

"…Did you plan on expanding your place?" Hermione wasn't sure where this was going at all.

"No. I prefer the size of my place. Big enough for me, only, there really isn't any room for you there at all," he paused again, looked at her and with a deep inhalation, let out, "I knew you would find yourself staying over often. Since there are no neighbors, and as a married woman, it's rather compromising of you to stay with me over the night at mine and all, so I procured this residence for you. You will find it acceptable, I believe. It's clean; the occasional rodent I would gather might pass through…clean though. I haven't stocked the place of any food. I didn't know what you eat. So, you may eat at mine until you get your own food. The living room has a supply of books. I didn't know what you read at all, so there's a motley collection there of all sorts. Most of it is from my uncle and Malfoy's curious donation of what he passed to me in school and didn't want back…" Snape shut his mouth then. He hated ramblers, and found he was one for that moment. He hadn't allowed Hermione to say anything yet, so he stopped, looked over at her and saw she was beaming.

Then, that beaming face bounced over to him, and hugged him very tightly. He went even more rigid, stiff and his arms felt like they were going to break under her vice of a grasp. He admitted to himself that the feeling of a warm body, of its own accord touching him, was very sensuous and he had missed it, and his own body was reacting. He was still a healthy man in his prime. He started to push her away then, once the unfamiliar stirrings were warning him. The whole time it sounded like Hermione was chanting or something.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!—" she was going on. When she was pushed away, she blushed, and smiled at him, holding him at arm's length. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me in the longest time! No one has ever considered doing anything for me that has such meaning behind it like this. It's always socks or a book, books or a hair scrunchie for a gift. Wow, Severus, wow. I can't believe this! You? You! Wow! I wouldn't have--"

"Ms. Granger, I think I got the idea. Alright, then," he shifted a bit, glad his robes were loose, he wanted to get out of her presence rather quickly now. An excited woman in his presence was not good. This was the second time in so short a period was regretting having taken her on. "Set wards on your doors and windows. The attic is a way for you to come over to mine and me to yours. Whenever either one of us wants to come over, just shout or something. During business hours, this will be from eight to five, just come over, after that, if you come over floo or something. We will work out that later. Right then, I'll be leaving you. Ms. Granger," he bowed stiffly, as he tried to walk without so much as offering her any sign of his discomfit.

"Professor—Severus—thank you so much!" She watched him leave before running into the living room to see the book shelf. She heard him climb the stairs and then him walking across the attic.

Hermione grabbed a book at random, flung herself onto the sofa and was just glowing in bliss as she flipped open to the title page. It read _The Wizard's Erotic Mind_. Hermione bolted into a sitting position and flipped to the back cover looking to see if this was a Malfoy book, and found it was stamped with their crest. She snorted, and after deciding to toss it or keep it, she found herself flipping though the book, and after scanning snippets decided it was going to be a good read.


	9. Chapter 9unbeated version

This is UNBETA-ED when it's cleaned up, I'll repost.

Sorry it's been so long everyone. I've been out of the loop because of a chain of events which didn't allow me much time to myself--but here it is. Finally, and more to come soon--I'm starting the next chapter tomorrow.

I thank all of you!

CHAPTER 9

The house was quiet as usual but Severus usually never slept very well. But, when he woke the following morning, he had never felt more rested, more rejuvenated without taking Pepperup potion or something of the sort similar. He felt a little smug with himself; he had a spring in his step when he went to his bathroom and dressed. He tried to think why he was that way, and then as he buttoned his Muggle shirt, he was facing his bedroom wall which was on the opposite side of what was now Hermione's bedroom wall. Then he remembered clearly what he had spent all his energy of late doing. He wasn't angry or frustrated or confused. He felt…at ease. As strange as that sensation was for him he began to wonder what having a real confidant or friend was like as it had been so long since he had a true friend…but he turned his thoughts way from that as he cleared his throat. He didn't like to think back that far these days. Dumbledore was a friend, but not the sort he had craved. He was the type that one was friend to only because he had a piece of private, dangerous information that he could dangle in front of you and threaten to toss it in the wrong direction should you piss him off.

Severus wondered if she was on the other side of the wall. He dressed and went to the kitchen to cook breakfast for them both as she hadn't any food in the kitchen yet as he hadn't time to stock up for her, but she could do that now.

Hermione had come over and both were eating eggs and bacon with separate cups of coffee wafting their aroma around them both. Neither had talked much, but Hermione was a morning person so the quietness was killing her. She started to stab a few pieces of fluffy egg onto her fork when she couldn't help it, she had to ask.

"Severus?"

"Hmmm."

"Those books over at my place…"

"Hmmm." He didn't look at her while he was reading his paper.

"Have you read them before?"

"All of them," he said carelessy, not seeing where she was going with this silly morning talk which some people felt obligated to make first thing in the morning, like Minerva. Of course he had read all his books, if he hadn't she wouldn't be able to have them in her hands unless he knew what she was given. They were his after all, after Malfoy had given him some and he had added to the collection over the years.

"Oh. I see. Well, um, have you…practicesed what was in some of the books?"

"Of course, there's no point in learning if you can't apply what has been absorbed from the books."

"Even the more explicit ones?"

"What are you trying to get at Granger?"

"One of the books I read last night, _The Wizard's Erotic Mind_, I was wondering if you had read it…" Severus had snorted his coffee back into his cup, "and tried some of the more…well, yes…because it would be interesting of the…situations presented in it would be rather tantalizing," she gushed out.

Severus wiped his nose and stared at her. He had not realized he had put sexual books on her bookshelf.

"Hermione, I apologize for some of those more graphic books appearing on your shelf. I will be sure to have them removed immediately," he scooted back out of the chair and rose.

"No! No—" Hermione didn't want him to think that she was a little goody—goody which everyone seemed to perceive from her, and from the highly arched eyebrow Severus was now aiming at her, she thought he must be thinking the same of her.

"And what may you be objecting about if you want them to stay?"

"I was just—wondering—oh! Nothing! Just leave them, they're fine the way they are!" She huffed, rose and stormed out.

Severus was wondering what all the fuse was that was battling inside of that witch's head. He would have used Legimens on her, but he didn't want to break the relationship of Master and Apprentice, Friend and Friend, if the last was building and he wanted to think it was. He also wondered what was in that damn book she had stumbled on which she wanted to know about. He couldn't go into her place now and remove it, knowing her, she probably went to hide it, cursed it as well so he couldn't touch it.

He would just have to go out and buy another copy. He hadn't read it before, he had been bluffing. Malfoy had given him so many useless books, that one had been among the pile he had no use for. Really, did he look like a sexual man? Really, Severus snorted, it just went to the dusty box of books waiting to get aired out one day. And by all looks of things Hermione had found it of use. Figures.

Later that morning, Severus "Hmphed" Hermione a good day when she said she was going to return home to see how Ron was doing. She didn't mind. It was much more preferable to him snarling and aiming a wand at her. She told him she would return when he owled her. He just "Hmphed" again. When she shut the door and Severus heard a "pop" later, he called Caveat to him, and gave him a letter and pouch to take to Flourish and Blotts. They would go the adult section of the store and get him that book, if it was available. If not he would have to owl to Diagon Alley for it and pay more gold.

When Hermione arrived home, she wasn't quite ready for what met her when she Apparated in front of her door. Her wand wasn't drawn as she was bloody good at non-verbal spells, but then, she would have ended up straight in Azkaban for assaulting two Aurors.

They had been waiting for her return for some time she found later in the report one of them was writing on his lap while they waited in the waiting room at St. Mungo's.

Hermione vaguely remembered these two young Aurors guarding her a few years ago; they had been a few years younger, one in Ravenclaw and the other in Gyffindor. She hadn't made much of a fuss, except trying to Apparate back out, but there was a block, and they both had their wands drawn. They had Stupified her, took her wand, read her the Wizengmont order, and ordered her to come with them to the hospital.

Hermione was ready to kill that bloody meddling Molly Weasley. She hadn't yet taken anything to clear her body of the birth control pills. She hadn't gotten out of Severus Snape that potion and now it was too late.

Ron was sitting opposite her, without any Aurors on his sides, avoiding looking at her, looking everywhere but at her. He kept fiddling with his new robe, plucking at invisible fluff and brushing it clean. Hermione was determined to glare a hole straight through his bloody head. She thought she was nearly there when her name was called and she was escorted into a room.

It was rather unlike any normal hospital room. It was special; it was the type of room used for long term care, with a regular bed instead of strange metal beds and carpeted floor instead of linoleum. The walls were white and a very large mirror was on the other side of bed. She suspected it was a one-way mirror.

They had left her alone in this room and told her the Healer would be in shortly to see her. Hermione stood in the center of the room, knowing what they would find, but nervous of how they were going to go about it. Out of childish fear she stuck her tongue out at the mirror hoping that whoever was on the other side would feel affronted.

Not more than three seconds after that, the door opened and an old male Healer came in, closed the door and, unsmiling, told her to lay down on the bed. Hermione asked why, but he just repeated himself, and held his wand out.

Hermione laid down, and watched as he muttered under his breath a spell at her abdomen and she saw the wand tip turn red.

Red was never a good color.

He left then. Two junior Healers came in as Hermione rose and told her to drink a potion. Hermione said she didn't want to. They told her she had to, or she would be imprisoned. Hermione said she wanted to see her husband. They told her her husband didn't want to see her until she drank the potion and had already signed forms to clear her to Azkaban. Hermione kindly told them to go fuck themselves and let her see her husband. One of them said that was considered a verbal assault and had flung Hermione back onto the bed, had her pinned to it, and the other had forced her mouth opened and Hermione had taken the potion. She was then stripped.

It worked quickly. Hermione felt the potion go straight through her arteries and veins, clawing away at the contraceptives circulating around, and then darting their way to her uterus. She felt her uterine walls on fire, her vagina burning and then she felt wet.

Her inner thighs were damp and the sheets felt like they were spreading their warm clamminess up her back. She couldn't move. She was screaming in the pain, and sweating all over her body. She was cramping, her legs throbbing in the pain, and the wetness was spreading. She was howling and no one was coming in to help her. She was damning the whole world. Everyone in the whole wizarding world.

Everyone but Severus. She was trying to keep her mind on Severus. He was her friend. He wouldn't allow her to go through this without just cause. No, he wouldn't at all. He wouldn't hurt her. He had reasons why he acted the way he did. Under all the pain he suffered from Voldemort he was still living.

Hermione would live through this. She was as strong as Severus. She would have to be. It was like twenty menstrual cramps in one. Hermione could handle it. It was like Crucio.

Why hadn't they given her some pain killers?

Why?

Severus would take the pain away. Damn Ron. Damn Molly. Then everything went black.

Hermione woke.

She was in a sitting position and she found that she was still nude. She saw the two junior Healers had taken the bloody sheets out the door, and as her eyes followed them she saw Ron.

"You!" She pointed at him and all her anger flared up.

"Hermione, listen—"

"Get the—" she couldn't talk. That old Healer had muffled her.

"Hermione listen. You have been a bad wife. You had taken contraceptives when you knew I wanted children, and as your husband I have the authority to order you not to. You have been detoxified of them, and are now able to conceive. Hermione, we can make a child!"

Hermione just narrowed her eye. _Over her dead body_. So, it didn't matter if she didn't want one yet. It was what the male wanted.

How did she marry this prat and not know the laws of this world?

"Should I leave you two alone now?" The old Healer asked.

"Yes, please. I'm ready to make love to my wife."

The old Healer left. "The sooner you let me, the faster you can come home," Ron said.

Hermione was still not able to speak but she knew she wouldn't be returning home. Home was not with Ron anymore.

Hermione laid down on the bed, watching her husband undress. He climbed on top of her. He leaned heavily onto her, his skin everywhere on her, suffocating her. She felt him inside of her and wanted to throw up all over his damnable face.

She closed her eyes and imagined being away from there. Her body was still and dry. The wetness was gone. Ron was never one for warming her up.

Hermione instead imagined being back in her new lab with Severus. She imagined stirring a cauldron with him right behind her, overseeing her, making sure everything was right. She did something wrong and leaned over her, placing his hand onto hers, and she shuddered.

She shuddered because Ron had shuddered and was now kissing her neck telling her how much of a good wife she was.

Hermione was always the good wife he knew she would make and they would one day have a whole Quidditch team.

Hermione made a mental note to ask Severus if he knew anything about the morning after pill. If not, she would be soon visiting a Muggle pharmacist and disappearing from the face of the Wizarding world for a long time.

While Ron dressed, Hermione sat on the bed cold. She could feel his greasy semen inside of her, and on her inner thighs. She had used some of the sheet to wipe the excess off, but knew it wouldn't make a difference. She need to wash. She felt disgusting. She felt worse than when she had gone to the male prostitute.

She would never find that one man who knew how to love her properly. He probably didn't exist, his existence confined to the pages of a literary novel.

Hermione didn't cry when she was allowed to dress, the Healer satisfied that she was pregnant. Hermione didn't fly at Molly Weasley who was standing next to her son with a smug face. Hermione didn't feel anymore. Hermione didn't want to go back to her and Ron's place. She had nothing there that mattered anymore, so she said she was going to her parents place for a few days and needed a few days alone.

Ron just nodded, pecked her on the face and left. Hermione walked out of St. Mungo's into London. She kept walking until she was at the Leaky Cauldron which was so full no one noticed her pass through. She went out through the back to Diagon Alley and then Apparated out to Spinner's End.

It had been three days that Hermione was in St. Mungo's.

For two days Severus had tried to owl Hermione and was furious with her. If she was so serious about finding him, wanting to study under him, she would have responded back.

It was a bit past mid day when Severus heard the pop in the street as he had been in her front garden, making it look pr—respectable. He wasn't going to bother with his, but if she wasn't going to take care of hers—that was inexcusable.

When Severus heard the pop, he drew his wand, and seeing Hermione's form, relaxed the wand and stood in her pathway, arms folded. He was about ready to stab some nasty comment at her when he noticed her very pale skin. It was as if she was challenging him in pigment color. Her eyes were puffy and dark and her whole body looked weak and feable.

"Ms. Granger? What the hell have you been up too?" He stepped aside and let her in the gate.

"Back to that are we?" She tried to smile but failed. Just looking at Severus, her only friend right now made her eyes well up and explode with tears.

"Not the bloody waterworks, Hermione. Inside." He curtly said. He truly was useless when females cried. It made him feel uncomfortable. It put him at a loss. How do you help someone who was a blubbering mess?

Once inside Hermione's place, he went to put the kettle on and Hermione was calming herself down at the kitchen table. She was now holding her head, nursing a pounding headache.

"Well?" Severus sat opposite her. "I've been sending Cavet to yours trying to tell you that work started two days ago, and he came back in a fuss because he was unable to deliver the message. Cavet was not pleased."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "What's done is done and—"

"—When I left you that morning, the Aurors came and got me at my place. They had been waiting. I was taken to St. Mungo's. I was found with contraceptives in my body. Ron had ordered me detoxed, and then I forced to let him impregnate me." Hermione was surprised at how shortly that took to say but felt relieved that it was out of her. She had cast a look at Severus who was not looking at her now but at the table.

He was tight lipped at sitting remarkably still like in his teaching days. He let her words float around his head. All that came to the forefront of his mind was that what she had asked him earlier was true.

A man could demand his wife to be pregnant and contraceptives were out of the question once married to a man who wanted children.

Severus was furious with himself.

Why hadn't he made that potion for her? Why? No excuse! He wanted to beat himself—she was now going to be pottering around his lab with that dunderhead's brat inside of her—and two lives instead of one in front of dangerous potions was haphazard. He couldn't allow her to do it now.

"Severus. I need to ask you a favor."

"Ask." He muttered back.

"Do you know of a potion to get rid of it before it's too far along? I can't carry his child, after what I went through. I just can't. It wouldn't be loved and I can't stay with him."

Severus looked at her then, rose and turned the kettle off. His back was to her.

"Severus?"

"You ask too much of me Hermione. I thought I would be living out a peaceful existence now, but it seems you lot seem to keep dragging me along for a ride."

"I know it's a lot. Tell me or show me the ingredients, the potion spell or something and I'll do it. Please."

Severus bowed his head, pinching the bridge between his nose, and thought.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not going back."

"What if he goes to look for you?"  
"He doesn't know where to find me. He thinks I'm at my parents."

"For how long?"

"A few days."

"We'll have to get you a new wand."

"Why?"

"They could have put a trace on that wand especially if you don't show up in a few days."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed... Malfoy."

"What about him?"  
"He's the person to go to for the money for a very well made quality black market wand."

"I'd have to pay him back—I've got enough money in my separate vault—"

"No, you'll need that later on. Malfoy has enough funds to throw around just because he can."

"Can I live here with you and work with you Severus? I won't cause much—well, I mean—"

"Hermione, I haven't kicked you out...yet. When I have enough of you, I'll let you know."

They were both silent for some time thinking. Severus had moved away from the sink and after making Hermione tea, and none for himself he went through the attic to his place and set to work making that potion for her. Hermione couldn't as her wand could be traced there now.

He made it and Hermione took it.

He told her it would make her feel like hell. He took her upstairs to her room and said he would sit with her until she fell asleep. It was working and he sat watching her shudder and writhe. She was silent, biting her lip. He thought she was silent because she didn't want to appear weak. He was impressed because he had seen Narcissca screaming at this—a pain killing potion would render this potion ineffective.

Severus climbed into the bed when it was getting really bad, and Hermione was freezing in her damp sweat and held her to him to keep her warm. She was icy, but after a bit she wasn't shaking anymore. She had become still.

"Hermione?" he whispered. She didn't respond. Severus craned his neck to look at her face and found she had fallen asleep in his arms. He held her and realized that this was the first time in his life he had held a woman. Even as a child, Lily hadn't hugged him but he had remembered the want--the yearning to feel her in his arms and wondering what it would be like to sit by the lake under the sun and have her lean back into him. Some times he still wondered.

But now here was another woman, one he himself was half his age and would be repulsed by him if she only knew of his innocent thoughts. but he was there right now, keeping her comfort in her pain when he knew her husband wasn't and would kill him for. He was giving the comfort he knew he wanted when he had crept home from a Cruico still twitching and suffering from the pain, laying in a lonely, cold bed. He knew what she needed right now, so he gave himself.

He memorized how smooth and incrediable she felt. How her disordered and damp body was womanly and amazing. Her hair was in his face and smelt of sweat and coconuts. He made a warm washcloth appear and wiped her forehead and arms. He then wiped her face and watched as her lips fell apart slightly. They were dry and chapped looking, the skin whitish. He took the washcloth and wet her lips, forefinger barely grazing her upper lip. They still seemed a bit dry. He made a glass of water appear and dipped his finger in it, and then touched his fingers to her lips and smoothed them, tracing the outline and shape of the lips. They were fascinating and he remembered when she had been younger she had had large front teeth. But she didn't seem to now. He wondered if they were augmented smaller or she grew into them.

He settled back to holding her for the night to keep her warm under the blanket and fell fast asleep next to her.


	10. Observation of men

Alright, the summer so far has been chaotic, but I got a new job which I seat at a desk and can type--plus! So, next is to up date a new chapter for my Labyrinth fanfic before the next chapter for this story is posted. Thank all of you for your support and readings, and I love reading the reviews~

Chapter 10

Hermione woke feeling like absolute shite and saw the sun had barely risen. Her body felt weak, her head was pounding. Her first thoughts were "what happened?" and those thoughts were quickly followed by "who is lying next to me?" because in her memory reel she hadn't gotten to the part yet of Ron—and then she did and then she lifted her painfully heavy head to look to the side of her and saw.

She saw Severus Snape was lying beside her, his arm was draped over her middle and his face was tucked close to her back, burying in her hair. His hair was covering his face and mixed with hers but she could feel his rhythmic breathing on her back still and felt oddly soothed.

Looking down at the rest of him, she saw that he had chosen to sleep on top of the covers, and was still fully clothed, minus his shoes. Hermione felt a slight pang of sadness for him, that he would sacrifice his life right now to take care of her—a mere student of his years ago.

And then the realization that he was a lonely man with practically no friends in the world left to help him hit her. She wondered if pretending to be dead was at all better than being dead.

Hermione let her head softly fall back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply and smelt what the Professor smelt of and let his potion ingredient self drift her off back into slumber.

When Hermione awoke again, she could tell straight away that Severus Snape was not beside her. She pushed the blanket aside and looked at the small brass dresser clock and saw it was 11:20 in the morning.

She rose, and had to pause, gathering her senses about her. She felt dizzy and unsure, and sat back down on the bed before trying again. Her legs were not working properly and her head seemed to be playing a mean game with her, making everything jump out of her reach right when she thought she was there.

Hermione made her way down her stairs, noticing that the attic stairs were pulled up and wondered if Severus had gone back to his half for the day. She sat on the top step and scooted slowly down each stair until she reached the bottom, then rose again, leaning on the wall. She made her way to the kitchen and found it cold, and unwelcoming. She half expected Severus to be in there, putting on the kettle or something foolish, but finding he wasn't made her a little sad.

When her eyes fell upon the refrigerator, her stomach decided to remind her she was hungry, but upon opening the thing, nothing was in there. She had to go shopping.

Or, she could see what Severus had.

The attic was shut though. She didn't have an owl, and owling was silly for right next door, but she didn't feel like walking outside to get inside. She could floo. She would floo. So Hermione went to her fireplace, and with a bit of floo powder Snape had provided, threw some floo in the fireplace to put her head in and ask if she could come over.

Severus had woke up slightly disturbed with himself. He had never spent the night in which he woke the next morning with a woman. He was comfy, but before he realized who he was snuggling deeper into—if that word is appropriate—he found himself with a problem he had thought he hadn't suffered from much anymore.

Fortunately, he had his pants on to contain himself. He carefully backed away from the sleeping girl to not disturb her and fled up the attic stairs, and sealed it off. He would return later if she hadn't woken yet. He hurried out of the room with his mind whispering faintly that he was engaging in the walk of shame, yet he told himself nothing happened—so there was no shame; but the sneaky, quiet exit before a woman woke still made one feel like it.

While he was washing and dressing he thought of the mess the girl had gotten herself into—with the silly Wizarding laws she had married into and knew nothing of. He thought of his trapped mother and he felt the anger well over him, and he threw his shampoo against the bathtub basin so he slid out across the floor. He stepped from behind the curtain and retrieved it, catching his reflection in the slightly foggy mirror.

He saw his body, and saw it wasn't as spidery as years before—he was sleeping normal patterns now, and the stress he wasn't suffering from allowed him to keep his food down him longer without rushing to the restroom to vomit or have diarrhea. The scares around his body were numerous, but his fingers found the one on his throat and traced the familiar path over once more. Whenever he shaved traditionally he traced it—preferring the feel of the blade on his skin and thinking that he and only he would end it—not some bloody snake.

Severus was shivering so he finished showering and washing his hair. He decided that he would make a brunch since Hermione wasn't up yet and had no food of her own-he had to take her shopping or she would eat from his meager supplies until she got that new wand, which reminded him. He needed to send Cavet to visit Malfoy.

As Severus was heading downstairs he heard a voice from his living room, which caused him first to slink along the wall, with wand drawn. Then when the voice called again he realized who it was and tucked the wand away before entering the living room.

"Hermione, I see you are awake now." He simply stated. He didn't say anymore for fear of his tongue saying the wrong thing. He was looking at Hermione's head, and under her eyes were dark moons, her hair was sticking in every direction and her she looked aged. Then, her eyes were bloodshot.

"Yeah. I wanted to ask if you had anything to eat, I'm starving."

"Course, come over, I forgot to stock you up." Hermione was over in a moment and he pointed towards the kitchen in which Hermione padded over barefoot and raided his pantry until she found bread. She toasted it and ate it with some marmite.

Eventually, Severus broke the silence. "I'm going to send Cavet to ask Malfoy to ask an old friend of his if it would be at all possible to acquire a new underground wand for you."

She swallowed, "There's no way I could possibly afford one."

"Don't worry about costs. I'll take it out of apprenticeship fees if anything."

Hermione stared at him, skeptical before answering further, "I didn't know I accrued fees…"

"Just go with it, Ms. Granger. Your wand is useless. You can't break it either—"

"Why?"  
"If you feel liked being traceable, be my quest. Just give me forewarning so I can pack first."

Hermione sighed, and finished her toast then silent. "Alright," she finally agreed. "When?"

"Are you feeling well enough today to travel?"

"Yeah, I think so. A bit sore, but bearable."

"Good. Then go dress and meet me outside of this address," he scribbled onto a scrap piece of parchment an address, "in two hours. I have business to see first and owl Malfoy."

Severus left her sitting at his table and headed upstairs to free himself of her presence. He was beginning to feel somewhat drawn to her, like a magnet, just wanting to be physically near when he knew he shouldn't. He sat on his bed until he heard her push her chair out and the legs grind on the wood floor. He rose then, sent Cavet out and lay on his bed for the next hour and half.

When Severus woke he swept to his wardrobe and opened up one of the multitude of drawers which opened to more drawers and he withdrew two small bottled vials. One of which he pocketed. He then opened another and in those he removed two more vials, in which he pocketed one of that one to. He then opened one, removed a silver hair and opened the other vial to drop it in. Then, he swirled it, and swigged it.

He was so accustomed to the change that while he walked out of the room, a few shivers down his spine, he was another man. He was a silver, grayed haired man of the same stature but much more appealing to the eye. He passed a mirror, checked his face and smirked. Checking his watch, he hurried down the stairs, accio-ed his robes and apparated to met his neighbor.

When he arrived he saw Hermione pacing around nervous in a muggle village, in normal clothing. She spun around when she heard Severus approach and looked at him with narrowed eyes, with a hand on her pocket. He didn't walk like Severus, nor looked liked him. Instead was this graying, slightly average man with no distinguishing characteristics besides his receding hair line. Hermione just narrowed her eyes even more.

Smart girl, thought Severus, but not fast enough.

"Granger," he whispered as he got near, but kept walking so she had to follow, "we are heading to that bookstore. Here," he slid into her hands the vials from his robe, "I need to pick up a package. Go to the back, there's a restroom. Take it."

Hermione noticed the familiar vial liquid, "Oh no. No no no. I'm not taking this rubbish anymore when we could just allusion ourselves and—"

Severus abruptly stopped, stared at her and leaned into her ear, brushing a strand of hair aside, "You will take that potion. I made it myself, unlike you, who didn't put nausea aids in. This will not make you ill, and you will not turn into a cat. However, I must say, I heard you made a good Bellatrix."

Hermione made a small noise of surprise. How did he know about that? Any of that? Severus continued walking and then held the door open. He approached the desk which had no attendant at it, so Hermione quickly swept away to the back. The tinkling of the bell alerted someone in the back to a customer so the backroom suddenly had the noise of a scratchy metal chair moving.

A scrawny little man scuttled over with a limp and a smile as he recognized Severus's façade.

"Mr. Upton—my good man, been a while since your order came in. Really, I'm older than you but even I have a phone…" he trailed off as he bent down to retrieve the package under the desk.

As Severus was tapping his fingers on the counter he heard Hermione approach him. He turned around and saw Hermione was now slightly taller than her norm, and was still a brunette, but with a short bob which brushed her jaw line and was straight and her eyes were blue. Her features were slightly different, like the spatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks and then the thin lips. Nothing super drastic but she was unnoticeable.

Severus merely nodded his approvable and turned around again. She looked slightly older than what she was, but again, his mind snarked at him that she was still young enough to be his daughter.

And that, he decided was what they would pretend to be on their trip today.

Severus was passed a brown paper wrapped parcel and with a curt nod turned sharply and left Hermione to follow in his wake out the door.

Once the glass door banged shut and Hermione had caught up to the long legged man, she asked him where they were going.

"To the Malfoy's summer home," Severus simply said as he had tucked the parcel closely under his arm. He was not going to reduce it in the Muggle vision.

"I don't know where we are—but why are we going—"

"You, madam, are in need of a wand, yes? And as such, we are on our way to procure one. Really, madam, keep up or I can find a new assistant—"

"Look here, you! I knew we were to get that, but first why at his place? And second you weren't even looking for an assistant—"

Severus stopped abruptly and turned to stare at Hermione with a look that would turn milk sour. He readjusted his parcel before answering. "We are heading there because one, he is a friend; two, because he knows a wand maker on the black market and will be able to take us there; three, Draco Malfoy is wanting to talk to you and four, the last, and certainly not least, I have this parcel to drop off. Does that satisfy your annoyingly nosy mind?"

Hermione just huffed and at that they kept walking. A silence had fallen between them of which Severus was itching to ask a question himself of her and at last couldn't hold it in. It would appear to him that they were well suited in their inability to let go the unknown.

"Ms. Granger, why did you marry Mr. Weasley?"

Hermione only briefly had a hitch in her step and Severus heard the suck of breath she made but she carried on like nothing was said for only a moment before answering. " I'm not sure if I said this before or not, but I suppose it was out of familiarity. He asked me, and I never wanted to hurt him, ever, so I said yes. Why shouldn't I? I couldn't see anything else in the future and we were so caught up in the moment, I suppose. We almost died and after seven years of pent up emotions and not knowing if we would return the next year—well, it seemed logical to keep the team together and not split it up. Harry with Ginny, and Ron with me."

She was quiet once more.

"The Know-It-All didn't plan past marital bliss?"

"I had an idea but it didn't fit into the Wizarding world very well. So, I had a job and still I'm not—"

"—satisfied?" Severus finished.

"Yes."

"I know how that is. Well, being that you are now on the run from your husband and Aurors, and with a wizard believed to be deceased, making illicit potions to a provider with more questionable morals than you can shake a wand at—I think that your quest for satisfaction might be achievable."

"Severus?"

"Hmm."

"Are you satisfied with the life you have now?" Severus didn't know how to answer that one. Hermione saw the flood of emotions which stirred behind his eyes and didn't press him for an answer.

The Malfoy's summer home was on the outskirts of town with not much of a garden or land actually. It was a newer building with dark red bricks and young ivy starting up the walls still hugging the trellises. The door knob was well polished and the gate which they had passed through didn't squeak but it did shimmer with a shield letting Snape know that for all outward appearance, this was the right place.

Before Hermione and Severus reached the door, a scrawny and shrew looking elf with a dingy pillowcase was holding the door open. Hermione had stared at the creature trying to decide if she recognized this one and did not. This one hissed at them with downturned pointy ears and left hunched over. The door shut automatically and Hermione heard a door opened and quick steps approached.

Severus pinned Hermione's arm to his side and together they were met by the impeccable Mrs. Malfoy.

"I believe Lucius was expecting you two. This way, Draco is with him," she was already heading back where she came from before she had finished speaking leaving Severus to drag Hermione after. Hermione watched as her long blond hair seemed to sway around her hips and was slightly envious when she saw Severus' eyes trained to her bottom. Even Ron never watched her like that; oh, she saw how boys would go lust-eyed when Lavender or some other girl was around who through themselves after any moving object with a stick to ride and was disgusted at the display. She often thought something was wrong with her, but the slutty-ness just wasn't in her, or she decided she hadn't found anyone worth it yet. The thing is all men want a fun romp around with a quick, wham bam, thank you ma'am, but when they decide they want to marry, they want someone they know is the complete opposite of that, because they know that they have to watch and worry about their dolly bird flying the coup for better air. That realization made Hermione grind her teeth and turn her thoughts away from Ron and Severus, after all, they were just men with pricks anyways.

Narcissca opened the door and closed it behind them and left them alone with their hosts.


End file.
